“At least there is no snow on the ground” Gun Roswell
Welcome To Finland’s Midsummer
Not creature stirred
Not even a mouse
Vision getting blurred
Or just an illusion
If you come to the conclusion
And dare to leave the house
Heed this warning
The rain come a down pouring
Soon you will be scorning
The streets empty and deserted
The barbeque outside forgotten and defeated
Shivering in ten plus degrees
Wishing you had paid the fees
Of a nice vacation abroad
But your plan was flawed
Planning on spending
The day never ending
At home in stead
Spending the Finnish carnival
An event most formidable
Even though holier than thou
Or the proverbial sacred cow
That was all but a dream
You hear yourself scream
If you’d only been so lucky
But now feeling yucky
Your midsummer
What a bummer
Surely a nightmare to remember
So what really happened:
Rantings Of A Third Kind 