To help bring a smile back if you can last it out.
A Day at the seaside.
On the map of North Notts. you'll find Worksop
Where'a lived when I wa'ra a lad
In a house wi'me Mam, two sisters and Gran
one brother, a budgie and Dad.
At the end of our street w'a a boozer
Black as stout, uninviting and glum
A den of depravity, it stank like a lavatory
Were me Dad went to hide from me Mam.
At the end of the bar, in a bottle
Every week, two bob he'd slip
for the annual treat, when the kids in our street
went to seaside on a coach trip.
We'd set off in morning from Worksop
On route for Sutton-on-Sea
with the holiday club ... them as paid up their subs
half the street me brother and me.
There w'a old Mrs.Brough from the tripe shop
Big soft Doris an her two lasses
an her sister, Ellen, with a bust like two melon
an a face like an ars'ole with glasses.
There w'a 'Perfumed Gordon', the hairdresser
and nobody did make it clear
why a rude boy, named Taylor, cried out, "Hello sailor!"
and something about ginger beer!
There w'a 'Desperate Derek', his brother, 'Big Eric'
and 'Basher', 'Gnasher' and 'Butch'
an Lil, who w'a willing for only a shilling
which w'a still about tenpence too much.
There w'a Mavis who wouldn't, 'cos her mum said she shouldn't
there w'a Neville who wished that he could,
An then there w'a Heather who said that she'd never
but looked like she probably would.
Well me Dad took a crate or two of ale wi him
Intending to travel in style,
Od'e coach did about 25 mile to the gallon
me Dad did half pint to the mile.
Rain were chucking it down leaving Worksop
through North Nott's it did not desist
there were cows with bronchitis and wet sheep to invite us
when Lincolnshire loomed in through mist.
Rain slacked off soon to a medium monsoon
and the day didn't look such a black'n
when the driver, called Reg, pulled up at a hedge
an we all made a break for the bracken.
Dad rushed for a tree and he said, "Scose me!"
an right there, one penny he spent it
he said, "Ain't it queer, one thing about beer,
yo don't really buy it... yo rent it!"
Well, this idyllic scene, 'mid the nettles and steam
w'a soon torn by me brother's plaintive cries,
the poor little nipper caught his 'donger' in his zipper
an w'a dancing with tears in his eyes.
Then back on the coach, off to Sutton
when we got there, well eeh! it were grand
an we gazed at the sea, cold ... the colour of tea
and smelled candy floss, dodgems and sand.
There were shops full of rock and hats with rude slogans
There w'a music and cries of hilarity
there were games on the sand, there were jellied eel stands
and souvenir shops packed with vulgarity.
Me brother ran down to the ocean
His intention, the water to reach
for his foot he'd just thrust in ... some'at disgustin'
a donkey had left on the beach.
The sea was as cold as a polar bear's dick
we watched Punch kill the crocodile dead
and after throwing some sand at the Salvation Army band
we went off to the funfair, instead.
There w'a ride called' Comet', made you scream, faint and vomit
half deafened, yo hung upside down
an the last bit, a spinner ... brought up rest of ya dinner
not bad y'know, for half 0' crown.
There were cards with fat ladies, nudists and Scotsmen
honeymooners and dirty weekenders
and in a machine ... what the butler had seen
dimly flickered about in suspenders.
We ate cockles and whelks and big winkles
soggy chips, toffee apples like glue
the hot-dogs were funny'ns, something rude wrapped in onions
but we ate them an pease pudding too.
Then we went on'ta dodgems and waltzer
an big dipper that rises and falls
It w'a on this machine that me brother turned green
an his eyes stood out like bulldogs balls.
This poor little chap, he w'a sick in his cap
It were his best'n ...an he started to cry
so not wishing to spoil it, we swilled it in toilet
and he wore it until it w'a dry.
Then driver found us and shouted, "Back to the bus!"
through the dark, we ran the whole way
candy floss in our hair ... but we didn't care
Eeh!.. we'd had such a wonderful day.
An with charabanc firing on seven cylinders
we set off for Worksop and home
rattlin along highway singing songs of Max Bygraves
accompanied on paper and comb.
In the dim orange glow of the coach-light, so low
courting couples were billing and cooing
hoping, perhaps, that the coats in their laps
would conceal the rude things they were doing.
We pulled up in our street about half past eleven
there w'a Mam, there w'a Granny an' all
they gazed with admiration at the plastic Alsatian
we'd won for 'em at coconut stall.
I drank up me cocoa, I ate up me sandwich
and soon up in bed I w'a curled
I w'a dreaming a dream ... I w'a leading a team
On first coach trip, round world.
Eeh!. .. them things that I did ... when I w'a a kid
although they were simple and small
now I'm grown up I find, I look back in my mind
I'm sure they were best times of all.
But of all things I'll tell ya for free
there's none can compete wi that charabanc treat
Wi me brother ... to Sutton on sea.