My father came home from work one day to find a note from my mother to say she had gone off for a holiday with some of her friends. It was a real “Shirley Valentine” moment for him. He took it well and lived on fish and chips for a fortnight!



It was something she’d read in a copy of vogue that gave rise to the thought in her head
That now as the children had left home for good she should start to regain all her zest
And as she made plans for the rest of her life she realised that hurt would be felt
For on this new journey one traveller would go her husband would have to be left

She will go
With a smile she will go
Taking life by the throat
She will laugh as she goes

And all over the city there are women like her tormented yet driven to go
Suitcases packed sandwiches made they are leaving for life on the road
They want to be girls again women of choice exciting vivacious and curved
Ready to take on new men in their lives ages and waistlines are blurred

And on fresh clean sheets in the cheapest hotels they’ll perform and contort for the boys
Who are only intent on their own satisfaction not knowing what tricks to employ