Life's a beach

I have a beach, it's mine, you can't have it,
Made up of deep golden sand, the finest grit,
It's set in a secret place you will never see,
Throughout the year but one resident, me, me, me.

The sun shines down twelve hours a day,
And topless girls dance the night away,
Waves, white topped, crash noisily on the dunes,
An orchestra plays, non stop, well known tunes.

Drinks served chilled the suited waiter pours,
When depleted then I just shout out for more,
Top chef cooks up best roast beef ever seen,
Followed by apple pie with piles of cream.

Me and my mates we all play beach cricket,
Elvis bowls, Groucho bats, Churchill at mid wicket,
Then work up sweat with Marilyn in nearby gym,
Cool down by going with the Beach Boys for a swim.

This certainly is the way everyone should be,
For once in your life not pain but a little luxury,
Watch me relax and body burn brown everywhere,
I'll send you a postcard of beach, wish you were here?

The bad news of course is place never really existed,
Just as I looked out on the grey, cold rain, brain twisted.
The reality is it's all way beyond my reach,
But just for today in the mind, life's a beach.