I'm going up the `pool from down the smoke below
  to taste my mum's jam sarnies and see our Aunty Flo.
  The candyfloss salesman watches ladies in the sand
  down for a freaky weekend in the hope that they'll be meeting
  Mister 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 Bear.
    There'll be bucket, spades and bingo, cockles, mussels, rainy days,
  seaweed and sand castles, icy waves.
  Deck chairs, rubber dinghies, old vests, braces dangling down,
  sun-tanned stranded starfish in a daze.
    We're going up the `pool from down the smoke below
  to taste my mum's jam sarnies and see our Aunty Flo.
  The candy floss salesman watches ladies in the sand
  down for a freaky weekend in the hope that they'll be meeting
  Mister 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,
  sun-tanned stranded starfish in a daze.
    Oh Blackpool,
  oh Blackpool.