Finally he opens the window
After hours of sun
I’m perspiring for fun
My clothes feel like my skin
We’re sardines in a tin
On this coach heading for Rome

Finally he opens the window
Under a sunroof closed on top
Our souls will possibly drop
On this hottest day of the year
Our suits it would appear
Have become blankets

Finally he opens the window
I think he’s having fun
As he’s killing us in the sun
Wearing his shirt and shorts
To a female he cavorts
While us mortals in seats do perish

Finally he opens the window
Now comes the disgrace
When his mouth on his moustached face
Puffs on a large cigar
It’s a punishment gone too far
A deed which is clearly illegal

Finally he opens the window
As our luggage slams on the floor
When he casually closes the door
And he’s choked us half to death
Leaving our bodies pretty much bereft
Of any life