YOU’RE LIKE MY GULF STREAM
AND I KNOW I’M SWELLING UP TO SING
SOUTHERN COMFORT THAT YOU BRING
SULTRY DAYS WE’LL WALLOW IN
YOU’RE MY GULF STREAM
AND I KNOW IT WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR WAY
WAFTING FROM SOME DISTANT DAY
YOU OPEN UP A BLUE HIGHWAY
I PRAY TO THE SPIRITS GLASS TO MOUTH, KEEP THAT CHILL, CHILL WATER FLOWING SOUTH
WON’T YOU KEEP COMING ROUND, COMING ROUND, WRAP ME IN YOUR BEAUTIFUL SHROUD
IF YOU EVER LEAVE, (GOD FORBID)
MY HEART WOULD HOLD A FROZEN ROOM
I’D SIT IN IT AND STUDY GLOOM
BUT LET’S NOT THINK OF SUCH THINGS
STAY MY GULF STREAM, JUST LET ME SWIM IN MY GULF STREAM,
WHISPERED RUMOURS ON THE WIND, THAT THE ICE IS GETTING THIN
BUT LET’S CHINK A GLASS, THAT IT LASTS, PRAY IT HOLDS FAST
NA, NA, NA, ‘COS IT FEELS SO COOL
It feels like we’re partying, remote from what’s happening to the world that we’re utterly dependent on . . .
The Gulf Stream is the ocean current that comes up from the Gulf of Mexico and keeps Britain, on the same latitude as some very cold places, warm. It’s part of a system called the Atlantic Conveyor, and it’s driven by the cold melt water flowing south from the Arctic.
This is a very self-interested and parochial song on our part, because we’re British, and maybe a bit of gallows humour, and not to make light of things, but heating up is one nightmare but becoming as frozen as Baffin Island really is another.
What will Britain become, other than territorially diminished? Some combination of global warming while losing the Gulf Stream. Will these two factors balance each other out?
According to our calculations, probably not, though maths is not Staneb’s strong point. Obviously not going to remain moderate and temperate with regular rainfall. And it’s really not a joke, who knows what it will be? We’ll be moaning about the weather, whatever.