Your grandfather's guitar Thinking about how funny I must look
Trying to adjust to what's been there all along With the boat kiosk lady and her sleepy amigos
* But it ain't a holiday until You go to fetch something from the car
A travel size champagne cork pops And we're sweeping for bugs in some dusty apartment
The what's it called café You can arrive at eleven and have lunch with the English
( * )
But it ain't a holiday until They force you to make a wish
They say "climb up this" And "jump off that"
And you pretend to fall asleep on the way back
( * )
