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They do it down on camber sands 
They do it at Waikiki 
Lazing about the beach all day, 
At night the crickets creepy 
Squinting faces at the sky 
A Harold Robbins paperback 
Surfers drop their boards and dry 
And everybody wants a hat 
But behind the Chalet 
My holiday's complete 
And I feel like William Tell 
Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet 
Pulling mussels from a shell 

Shrinking in the sea so cold 
Topless ladies look away 
A he-man in a sudden shower 
Shelters from the rain 
You wish you had a motor boat 
To pose around the harbour bar 
And when the sun goes off to bed 
You hook it up behind the car 

Two fat ladies window shop 
Something for the mantelpiece 
In for bingo all the nines 
A panda for sweet little niece 
The coach drivers stand about 
Looking at a local map 
About the boy he's gone away 
Down to next door's caravan

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