from 'Escape' 1981
I always feel a little sorry for the man in the picture above. I passed him last summer in Venice giving out leaflets for some attraction that is clearly funded entirely by gullible English-speaking tourists who share a skin tone not unlike Michael Jackson's. He seems so utterly miserable. Not just with his job, either, the man reeked of manic depressive. He needs this song, something so stupidly optimistic the devil himself could foresee a bright future when listening to it. Plus it's cheesier than Cheddar Gorge, which is in all honesty utterly fantastic.