I was going to go out today
to France or Rome or to the Bay
The sun was out, the weather was hot
but in the end, I did not
Yesterday I nearly left
I packed my bag, my trunk, my chest
my floppy hat and sun tan oil
but the journey seemed like too much toil
I need to take a holiday
to leave this place, get far away
but every time I go to leave
My legs go weak and begin to freeze
The world outside is big and wide
I am a gnat, a bug, a fly
The noise and rush, the hustle and bustle
chills my nerves, my brain, my muscle
So I paint the walls with happy scenes
of beaches, hills and lucious greens
I wish, I wish I could just get away
but for my vacation it's here I'll stay
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