The End is Nigh

Halfway through your holiday, the thought attacks your brain,
A week from now and you will all be back upon the plane.
And all throughout the second week, the feeling’s never-ending,
That, sad to say, that rotten, bastard moment is impending.
Did you get the most out of the little time you had?
Will memories be happy ones, or will they all be sad?
Did we go and see the sights, do everything we could?
Or did we simply laze around, the role not understood?

As you approach your forties then, the thought attacks your brain,
Another forty years and you’ll be back upon the plane.
And all throughout the second half, the feeling’s never-ending,
That, sad to say, that rotten, bastard moment is impending.
Did you get the most out of the little time you had?
Will memories be happy ones, or will they all be sad?
Did we go and see the sights, do everything we could?
Or did we simply laze around, the role not understood?

Some people can be quite content to come back home again,
But I am much too fearful to get back upon the plane.