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