August in Scandinavia

Mid-August here in Scandinavia,
Summer clothes if you’re so bravie yeah!
Milk every last bit of northern sunshine,
Knowing winter might come at any time,
All bets are hedged; you just don’t know do you?
Sweaters on the strand, brollys ready too,
You might start in sun, then run for cover,
Or start in cloud, and then soon discover,
The day has turned, one way or the other,
It’s just so bloody hard to be prepared,
It gets to the point where each day you’re scared,
You could start it out, all sunny glowing,
But not be surprised if it starts snowing,
You might think that an exaggeration,
But that would be a complete negation,
Of all the times you were caught unawares,
Thought you were prepared for the weather’s dares,
But no matter how you tried to prepare,
You were soaked clear through, near frost in your hair,
They say here; no weather’s bad, just your clothes,
Well I’m here to say, I’m not one of those,
I can’t carry my wardrobe on my back,
I need a small clue each day when I pack,
Each day on TV weather people say,
Well, we’re not sure; it could go either way,
Leaving me to wonder, where I can find,
A job where I’m not right half of the time!