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 hack
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
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 motorboat to pose around the harbor bar
And when the sun goes off to bed, you hook it up behind the car
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
Pulling mussels from a shell
Two fat ladies window shop, something for the mantelpiece
In for bingo, all the nines, a panda for sweet little niece
Coach drivers stand about, looking at a local map
About the boy, he's gone away, down to next door's caravan
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
Pulling mussels from a shell
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
Pulling mussels from a shell
|