When the mammoths came a-thundering off the glaciers in the North
We were huddled here in Coney and we never ventured forth
We ignored it in our village when the wind of changes blew
And if it was getting parky out, we always said “It snew”.
We were here in Coney Weston when the Beaker People came
(and we’ve still got these here beakers, and they still look just the same)
We have weathered out the bloody Celts, the bloody Saxons too,
And the useless bloody Normans, and we always said “It snew.”
Sometimes sunshine shone on Coney, or through the clouds it glowed
And it’s fairly often raining, or sometimes it has s-s-s-blowed.
For we like to stick to things that it’s traditional to do,
When those white flakes float down from the sky, we always say “It snew”.
There was Shakespeare — from the Midlands — and Milton’s London days,
There was Doctor Johnson’s little book and his newfangled ways
There was three wise Clerks of Oxenford, trying something new,
But here in Coney Weston we have always said “It snew.”
20th October 1999, Swansea
