With Passover looming, and all that that entails, I'll be out of commission, blogging-wise, for the next few days. In the meantime, here's a seasonal song (with apologies to J. Mitchell):
It's comin' on Pesach,
They're selling macaroons.
They're scrubbing out their cupboards
And counting out their spoons.
Oh, I wish I had a hotel
That I could run away to.
But the seder's here.
Eighteen people in all.
Gotta whip up some charoset,
Make another matzoh ball.
Oh, I wish I had a hotel
That I could run away to.
I wish I had a hotel so nice.
I would relax in paradise.
I wish I had a hotel I could run away to
And maybe stay eight days...
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