A SEASIDE HOLIDAY AT HOME
 
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Now things have been so queer at home
That my old mother says to me
'There ain't no change for us I fear
No holiday by the sea
So as we cannot do Southend
It's no use making a fuss
There's only one thing left to do
That's bring Southend to us.'

Chorus: So up we went, and we all laid down
Upon the roof till we all got brown
All in a row by the chimney pots
The smoke and the soot they helped us such a lot
The neighbours never knew a word
They thought we'd gone to Rome
When things go funny, and there isn't any money
Have a seaside holiday at home.


We filled the washing-tub quite full
And popped in a pennyworth of brine
Then all of us dipped our tootsies in
And the family thought it fine
We got in food to last a week
We didn't allow the cat outside
And if we heard a knock.

Chorus: Then up we went and we all laid down
Up on the roof till we all got brown
All in a row, such a breezy lot
The smoke and the soot they helped, just a little bit
With telescopes we spied St Paul's, at least we saw the dome
Our fishing it was fine - a kipper on the line
At our seaside holiday at home.


Says Mother, 'Ain't this quite like Southend
There ain't no cockle stalls about
She collared the 'pram' and she faked it up
And she wheeled it in and out
With saucers-full, and vinegar, too
You really couldn't tell
With cabbage leaves and a dose of paraffin
We got the local smell.

Chorus: Then up we went and we all laid down
Up on the roof till we all got brown
All in a row, such a lively lot
Each one tucked his prettyy little trousis up
We listened at next door's chimney-pot
For the surging of the foam
It set us all a-sighing, it was sausages a-frying
At our seaside holiday at home.


The 'kursaal' was our best front room
And the band made everybody glad
I played my new mouth-organ there
And it didn't sound half bad
We put some night-lights up the stairs
And it looked exactly like the pier
We did our week, so when you're broke
You try it on - look here,

Chorus: Then up we went and we all laid down
Up on the roof till we all got brown
All in a row on the silver sand
Far away from 'bees' and 'honeysuckles'
And at night - ah, what a sight
Beneath the starry dome
Doing highly-tyties, dancing in our nighties
At our seaside holiday at home.
 
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Written and composed by Fred Bowyer & Gilbert Laye - 1903
Performed by Herbert Campbell (1844-1904)
 
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