by

Alun Buffry

Left Marrakesh today, to Fez, but on the way,

Felt a lacking of some sort - forgotten my passport!

Got off the bus again, cursing my damned brain,

Went back to where we'd stayed. God's little game was played.

Amidst all this goddam fuss, in little Hotel 'Mus',

I got the passport back! But my head's about to crack!

It's started now to rain. I think I'll catch the train.

'Cos lover must be there and I wish I was with her!

Not possible this time, to use the railway line.

So I sit in sorrow, waiting for tomorrow,

When I hope that I can go, if rain don't turn to snow.

Well the money goes so quick, I'm gonna have a fit,

I want to smoke some stuff and call the devil's bluff.

Illusions all around, and my head aches from the sound

Of rains and cars and mules and stupid tourist fools.

But writing down these lines has made me feel quite fine.

It's just that I couldn't half do with a long hot bath,

And get rid of the dirt, and wash my only shirt,

And jeans and socks and all, and go and have a ball,

In Fez.