Sun, Sea & Sangria

Verse 1

Barry lands in Spain at half past two,

straight off the plane already looking for a queue.

He finds a tapas bar and orders six,

"when in Rome," he says, though he don't know the tricks.

Chorus

All inclusive, that's the deal he made,

bracelet round his wrist, never comes off, never fades.

Free at seven, free at half past nine,

more than he's ever had and he's calling it fine.

All inclusive — olé, olé,

he'll eat the lot and call it a holiday.

Verse 2

Six twenty, sand still in his flip-flops,

down before the buffet trolley even stops.

Four towels tucked beneath one arm,

claiming every lounger before the day gets warm.

Doesn't want a swim till eleven or noon,

just wants his flag down, nice and soon.

Verse 3

A German fella moves his towel aside,

Barry's back in a flash, hands on his hips, wounded pride.

"Excuse me mate, that towel's been there since six,"

the German shrugs, "I do not see no towel trick."

Voices rising over one plastic chair,

the whole pool's watching, nobody else can bear —

by breakfast they're mates, sharing the same jug of sangria,

that's how it always ends by the Costa Brava.

Break

(All inclusive — olé, olé)

Flamenco Guitar Solo

Verse 4

By four he's on his fourth San Miguel,

telling the Germans his whole life, twice as well.

By six he's teaching the bar a Yorkshire toast,

by nine he's lost his name tag and his coat.

Wakes up on the lounger, towel still there,

no clue how he got there, doesn't care.

Chorus

All inclusive, that's the deal he made,

bracelet round his wrist, never comes off, never fades.

Free at seven, free at half past nine,

more than he's ever had and he's calling it fine.

All inclusive — olé, olé,

he'll eat the lot and call it a holiday.

Bridge

Back home he's Barry from the depot, clocking six,

here he's a king with a wristband and some tricks.

Nobody here knows the man he is in November,

two weeks a year is all he lets himself remember.

Outro — chant, building

(Olé, olé) — Barry's on his fourth San Miguel

(Olé, olé) — towel was down before the pool boy rang the bell

(Olé, olé) — same lounger, same tale to tell

(Olé, olé) —

Spoken

"This music was created by DiscoPrincess -- royalty of the night."