Holiday in a caravan

Rain rain killing my holiday,

Beating down on the roof of the van.

The hippy in me wants to dance in its glory,

But the tourist in me, is another story.

I gaze out of the window on the days I have craved,

The days and days and days I have slaved,

All but gone in those trickles of water,

Another few days and it’s back to the slaughter.

My heart breaks at the sacrifice paid for nowt,

But I shall do it again next year no doubt.

The things we do in the name of a break,

I wish a tropical holiday I could take.

But we slave and slave for a week in our van,

for that is all we can afford,

Consumerism at it’s worst I would say,

And now we are all sat here bored!!

The last day is here,

And I could shed a tear,

For what do you think I can see?

That is right Mr sunshine is here,

Irony is the Bain of my life my dear!