Shortly before 8:30 pm, as the Sportsman Inn at Lodge Moor on the western edge of Sheffield is beginning to fill up with animated winter drinkers, someone arrives with a small electronic keyboard and sets it down on a table near the bay window. "What's that strange contraption?" jokes one of the regulars near the front. "Don't worry," he's...Learn More

[Verse 1] Cruel winter cuts through like the reaper The old year lies withered and slain Like Barleycorn who arose from the grave The new year will rise up again [Verse 2] There will come a time of great plenty A time of good harvest and song 'Til then, put your trust in tomorrow, my friend For yesterday's over and done [Chorus] And the snow...Learn More