This is a simple wintry organ and flute and acoustic based song with a heavy emphasis on vocal harmonies.
This song is about 3 things:

1) When I had some heart valve issues and thought I was dying when in fact I was just having a panic attack and the coolest doctor (Dr. Pasard in Chorlton, Manchester) ever in the emergency room just making me talk about the weather and how much we both hate London even though I thought I was dying….
2) Resident Evil 4 – when you reach a typewriter end-of-level save bit. What a relief it is! And everything fades to white as a new chapter awaits.
3) Luke Kennard, poet awesommaire has a poem called ‘The Murderer’ in which there is a line “the forecast is for snow you know.” I directly stole this and put it in a song. Sorry, Luke. Luckily he’s a friend so I hope he doesn’t mind tooooooo much???

Also there is a very cheeky, quite obscure Paul Simon reference in the lyrics in verse 2. Top points if you can spot it!

The doctor was really a conductor, slowing up his arms and the band and my heart was beating stronger
As strong as anyone who would go to live on long who’d been worried all along about the murmurs
Stirrings rumours words that make us  nervous, I never heard somebody speak so clear.
Laughing off my worst fears by talking bout the weather.

And the city was really just a chapter merely just a phase with its edges.
I like to lie here, thankful for my fingers stars through the branches camped out in the open with no corners
I used to get so angry with numbers. Now I’m only calculating rain.
See now how the clouds come, bearing all my futures.

The forecast you know is forecasting snow.

He is always, always with those eyes wide frozen the night of the black dog when he saw it
You see I didn’t even see it I just saw him see it through those trees and I was running screaming shouting help me

he was wide and frozen in the moonlight and now i only have that memory of him
despite everything that’s happened since.
he’s still frozen in that winter

The forecast you know is forecasting snow.

Caught now sunset on the edge with our belongings scattered over leaves
and winter’s coming, we came as far as anyone who ever had a heart ever tried to make a start to conquer timing
you was only waiting and mending, I was biding time but anyone can say it, anyone can say it
everybody’s singing about the sea but no one’s sailing

Fading into darkness
it was always in the autumn
running down the avenue.

The forecast you know is forecasting snow.