We took her on back to our Spanish resort overlooking a most glorious coast
Most if not all of us exceedingly drunk – funked out on just enough laughter to battle any such home-brewed demons
Stealing it all away seriously the last thing on our minds
Freemantling to the last – a blast of old-school memories second-to-none
And soon our precious feet lost themselves all over again
Becoming enticingly enveloped by rather coarse sands, we continuously grip one another’s e exhausted hands
If only we’d done this with her

Then, we have to turn our key… wait and see
No noise, no nothing; something most certainly up
Ten-minutes away and they somehow, anyhow, manage to take a life, toy with two such parents lifelong faith
Knide-edge stuff… watch us unravel the ends of our seats
Retreat, retreat, on out back as far as that ghost town reception, to the obese man wearing the rather infectious beard
My own husband wears the same whilst posing the all important question, searching for anything to blame
Where. Is. Our. Daughter
Stolen away by those secuestradores horrendos, prepared for slaughter if only they don’t gain enough grain
A time when laughter and, of course, slaughter never felt oh so very wrong

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