And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow

According to The Telegraph:

The UK is set to be battered by a mini-heatwave this week with Wednesday and Thursday expected to reach 90F (32C).

A heat health alert has been issued across much of England for the rest of the week with the UK predicted to be warmer than Cyprus, Greece and Ibiza.

Bring. It. On.

We have had such a crap summer, I'm happy to accept anything the weather can fling at us to salvage the dreadful year we've had - just such a shame that I can't actually spend huge amounts of time basking in it.

Work just gets in the way.

Reading the news that someone called Steve Harwell had died, I had to Google the band of which he was frontman and vocalist, Smash Mouth. I didn't think I would know any of their stuff, and then - appropriately enough for the impending "heatwave", remembered this (their only Top 20 hit in the UK):

Smash Mouth - Walkin' On The Sun

It ain't no joke, I'd like to buy the world a toke
And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony
And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars
Hey, I know it's just a song but it's spice for the recipe
This is a love attack, I know it went out but it's back
It's just like any fad, it retracts before impact
And just like fashion it's a passion for the with-it and hip
If you got the goods they'll come and buy it
Just to stay in the clique

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

Twenty-five years ago they spoke out and they broke out
Of recession and oppression and together they toked
And they folked out with guitars around a bonfire
Just singing and clapping, man, what the hell happened?
Then some were spellbound some were hell-bound, some they fell down
And some got back up and fought back against the meltdown
And their kids were hippie chicks, all hypocrites
Because fashion is smashing the true meaning of it

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

It ain't no joke when a mama's handkerchief is soaked
With her tears because her baby's life has been revoked
The bond is broke up, so choke up and focus on the close up
Mr. Wizard can't perform no godlike hocus-pocus
So don't sit back, kick back and watch the world get bushwhacked
News at ten, your neighborhood is under attack
Put away the crack before the crack puts you away
You need to be there when your baby's old enough to relate

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive
And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow
But if the offer's shunned
You might as well be walking on the sun

That takes me back three decades...

Keep cool, dear reader!