They do it 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 Marion on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Shrinking in the sea so cold
Topless ladies look away
A he-man in a sunken shower
Shelters from the rain
You wish you had a motor boat
To pose around the harbor bar
And when the sun goes out to bed
You hook it up behind the car
But behind the Chalet
My holiday’s complete
And I feel like William Tell
Maid Marion on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Two fat ladies window shop
Something for the mantlepiece
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 the next door’s caravan
But behind the Chalet
My holiday’s complete
And I feel like William Tell
Maid Marion on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell