I’m going up the ‘pool
From down the smoke below
To taste me mom’s jam [sarnies?]
And see our auntie Flo.
The candy [floss-sails?] man
Watches ladies in the sand
Down for a freaky weekend
In the hope that they’ll be meeting Mr. Universe.
The iron tower smiles down
Upon the silver sea,
And along the golden mile
They’ll be swigging mugs of tea.
The politicians there
Who’ve come to take the air
While posing for the Daily Press
Will look around and blame the mess on Edward [???].
There’ll be pocket spades and [???] cockles, mussels, rainy days,
The seaweed dance, sand castles, icy waves,
The deck chairs, rubber dinghys, [???] dangling down,
The suntan, stranded starfish in a daze.
We’re going up the ‘pool
From down the smoke below
To taste me mom’s jam [sarnies?]
And see our auntie Flo.
The candy [floss-sails?] man
Watches ladies in the sand
Down for a freaky weekend
In the hope that they’ll be meeting Mr. Universe.
There’ll be pocket spades and [???] cockles, mussels, rainy days,
The seaweed dance, sand castles, icy waves,
The deck chairs, rubber dinghys, [???] dangling down,
The suntan, stranded starfish in a daze.
Oh, Blackpool.
Oh, Blackpool.