Up The 'pool

I'm going up the 'Pool

From down the smoke below

To taste me mum's jam sarnies

And see our Aunty Flo.

The candy floss salesman

Watches ladies in then sand

Down for a freaky weekend in the hope

That they'll be meeting Mr. Universe.

The iron tower smiles down upon the silver sea

And along the Golden Mile

They'll be swigging mugs of tea.

The politicians there,

Who've come to take the air,

While posing for the daily press

Will look around and blame

The mess on Edward Pier.

There'll be buckets, spades and bingo,

Cockles, mussels, rainy days,

Seaweed and sand castles, icy waves,

Deck chairs, rubber dinghies,

Old vests, braces dangling down,

A suntanned stranded starfish in a daze.

I'm going up the 'Pool

From down the smoke below

To taste me mum's jam sarnies

And see our Aunty Flo.

The candy flosses salesman

Watches ladies in then sand

Down for a freaky weekend

In the hope that

They'll be meeting Mr. Universe.

There'll be buckets, spades and bingo,

Cockles, mussels, rainy days,

Seaweed and sand castles, icy waves,

Deck chairs, rubber dinghies,

Old vests, braces dangling down,

A suntanned stranded starfish in a daze.

Oh, Blackpool,

Oh, Blackpool.