They do it down on Camber Sands, they do it at Waikiki
Lazing about this beach all day 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 holidays complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Pulling mussels from the 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 harbor bar
When the sun goes off to bed, you hook it up behind the car
But behind the chalet, my holidays complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Pulling mussels from the shell
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, hes gone away, down to next doors caravan
But behind the chalet, my holidays complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Pulling mussels from the shell
But behind the chalet, my holidays complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Pulling mussels from the shell