European Vacation

The dry heat in this dead town is murder
Your mouth is desperately longing for a beer
And your gums are aching they are bleeding red
Because they’ve had it with this French Baguette
You are longing so much for the soft warm skin
Of the woman that you love in your own bed
Against yours upstairs in your own home
Just a moment ago the Barley besides the road
Was waving frantically with the summer wind
Of the slipstream behind you of your car
Now you taste the salt on your dry lips
You were bored for hours at the beach
And you ask yourself yet again
What am I doing here?