When it's Christmas time in Michigan,
And the gentle breezes blow,
About seventy miles an hour
And it's fifty-two below.
You can tell you're in Michigan
'Cause the snow's up to your butt,
And you take a breath of Christmas air
And your nose holes both freeze shut.
The weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I'll hang around,
I could NEVER leave Michigan,
My feet are frozen to the ground