A Hole in the Head

Today I may not have

A thing at all

Except for just a dream or two

But I've got lots of plans for tomorrow

And all my tomorrows

Belong to you

Right now it may not seem

Like spring at all

We're drifting

And the laughs are few

But I've got rainbows

planned for tomorrow

And all my tomorrows

Belong to you

No one knows better than I

That luck keeps passing me by

That's fate

But with you there at my side

I'll soon be turning the tide

Just wait

As long as I've got arms that cling at all

It's you that I'll be clinging to

And all the dreams

I dream, beg or borrow

On some bright tomorrow

They'll all come true

And all my bright tomorrows

Belong to you

Once upon a time, there were... hm...

three handsome hitchhikers.

Jerry Marks on the right,

Mendy Yales on the left,

and that's me in the middle,

Tony Manetta.

We came down from the Bronx

to make our fortune here in Florida.

First thing in Miami, we finagled

a cab and we're in business.

That's me in the middle.

Today, 20 years later, Jerry Marks is one

of the biggest promoters in the country.

Last year, Mr Fabulous,

as the papers call him,

he paid over $5 million in taxes.

Mendy? Well, Mendy's still pushing a cab.

As for me, I'm still in the middle.

I'm in the hotel business in Miami Beach,

working on my first million.

That's my hotel right there,

The Garden Of Eden.

But like good old Adam,

my weakness is Eves.

(swing band plays)

My current Eve is a Lulu. She would've

made the serpent eat the apple.

(woman) Yahoo!

Miami Beach!

If anyone thinks

I'm a well-heeled big shot out on a spree,

they've got a hole in their head.

Truth is, I'm busted.

He would like to own it, but I wouldn't give

you a quarter for the whole stinkin' beach.

- All right, tiger, down. The cops.

- (giggles)

- You wanna fight, huh?

- Come on, now.

(horn blares)

Oh, I forgot. I've got a son.

How about that?

(car horn)

(Tony) Knock it off.

You wanna get us pinched?

- You're just chicken, landlord. Whee...

- What a kook. Out, kook, out.

I feel like swimming.

Let's go swimming, huh, landlord?

Out, out. You're going to bed.

Go to bed, Ally.

- I'm a nose cone. And I want music.

- You're a kook nose cone.

(music plays)

- You'll wake up the kid. Get your key.

- Lookee, let's play fireman.

- Whoops, I'm decelerating.

- Andy, get her key right away.

I love you, landlord.

You love me?

- Any law against loving a landlord?

- There's a law against killing a landlord.

- Lookee, there goes Mars.

- Hurry up. Open her door wide.

The ride's getting bumpy.

Aren't we going to land?

Any minute now.

- No, no!

- Oh, keep quiet.

No, no!

- (music plays)

- Oh... Oh, no.

- Turn this radio off.

- I don't love you.

Who are you that I should love you?

I'm going swimming. Bye.

(hums)

Yahoo!

What a kooky broad.

(sighs)

Pop...

- Pop.

- What's the matter? What happened?

We are being evicted.

- What, are you kidding?

- I was trying to reach you all afternoon.

How do you like that?

A guy misses one lousy payment...

- Five payments.

- Oh, OK, five payments.

And Abe Diamond throws us

out on the street.

He must think

I'm a jerk from Jerkville.

- Mr Diamond's right, you know.

- Right? What do you mean, right?

If we can't meet our payments...

He's a big lawyer now.

Pshew, corporation lawyer.

What do we care

what it says in the lease?

Who needs this crummy, beat-up hotel,

anyways? Fleabag.

You know these architect drawings?

I didn't tell you about my brainchild.

It'll make me bigger than Jerry.

See this South Beach area?

We could buy it for a song.

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