Holiday

When I was young and lived with mum, We’d wait all year till July come, We’d pack the car and drive away, To Mablethorpe on holiday. It wasn’t flash and hardly slick, But those things aren’t the things that stick, When you think back now what mattered most, Were the simplest things of little cost. Even now I miss such things, As candy floss and doughnut rings, Busy arcades in neon flush, Space Harrier and the 2pence push, When on the beach we loved the sea, And sparkle lollies (just 12p!) A donkey ride and the kites we flew, And paper flags for a castle or two. The Fulbeck pub – a major plus, A beer for dad, pop and crisps for us, Michael Jackson still going strong, And PYT was my favourite song. It may not have been Saint Tropez, But I’d like to go back there some day, With mum and dad and my brothers too, Laughing in the sun like we used to do.