Light At The End Of The Tunnel

When all may seem lost then llook back at your good times,
it's a boost, weren't they good, your magic persona climbs;
you made love, everything came to a climax, nothing left,
so relax, take that all in, no need to feel so rather bereft.

We drove with the hood down, crammed into the chevvy,
someone sang, how we avoided contact was a mystery;
the sand was warm under your feet, mood so upbeat,
if you couldn't stand the kitchen, you got out of the heat.

We played all of the sports, coloured like liquorice allsorts,
never a shortage, always a sailor in all of the ports;
look at the clothes and street cred, who's next in bed,
don't I know you - didn't I see you once in Club Med?

Now we regress, not so much in various shades of  undress,
but immaterial that what was more turned out to be less.