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about

A sort of musical picture, George Formby style - but what would George have made of a modern seaside holiday.

lyrics

Family Holidays

There's one place that we long to be that's family holidays by the sea.
To swim in sewage is our greatest wish with Sellafield mutant jellyfish
Everyone both old and young like washed up whales in the sun
There she blows what jolly, jolly fun
This is the place to be !

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

Though we got up at the break of day there's a thirty mile jam on the motorway
Nose to tail stuck in that queue, sweating like pigs, air turning blue
And when we finally lose that jam, we're stuck behind a caravan
This wasn't a part of our cunning plan-
We should have stayed at home

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

On the very first day just as we planned we search for a square foot of sand,
But the only place we can put our mat is right where someone's dog's just shat
And when we finally take the plunge, we can't move for big fat bums
To what a state the nation's come
Really wish you were here !

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

Oh, the very next day, we will spend, evacuating from both ends
'Cos we ate something for our tea we should have left crawling round the bottom of the sea
Yet still we stuff our face with grease, kamikaze wasps give us no peace 'till it pisses down with rain oh, please, please, please-take us away from here!

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

On the third wet day, alas, alack, we're stuck in the shops buying loads of tack
Puffing on fags and putting on weight, I'm sure we're all going to suffocate
I think I'm going to go beserk, that bloke over there looks like a right burke (oh, it's a mirror)
I wish that we were back at work -only two days to go !

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

"I'm not effin' telling you again, you little brat, you can't have a bloody ice cream and that's that !
You think I'm effin 'made of money you do
Well you got another bloody think coming I'll tell you -
Look will you just stop effin' going on, you little sod
Before I really wallop you one - well, I don't know where he gets his bloody manners from ! We're not bringing you again !

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

Well, the week's all gone love and just as well,
Deliver us from this living hell
Pack your pink trouser suit away, we'll live to chain smoke another day
We'll leave this popular resort, full of ghastly sights in shorts
No wonder we feel out of sorts- see you again next year!

Oh,la la lalala lala lalala lala lalala la la la

credits

from Under the Baseball Cap (Full Album), released February 8, 2020

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about

Dave Taylor Leicester, UK

I write both serious and comedy songs. 6 solo CDs to date and collaborations with Steve Cartwright -"Legends of Leicester/Leicestershire". "All at Sea" shantyish album. Folk based for the most part - when people ask where the ideas come from I can say with honesty -"not drugs!!".. Currently working on a new album "Aspects of Lurve" hopefully out later in 2024. ... more

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