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On the Beach

Holkham Beach


North Norfolk

Cley next the Sea

Wells Next the Sea

Chelsea Next the sea

St Albans next the sea


New Year’s Day walks


The physical cold on your face

The chat, - the chat, chat, chat, chat, chat

The expanse of sky

The chat, - the chat, chat, chat, chat, chat 

I’m beginning to feel anxious coming out of lockdown


The social bubble that is the North Norfolk beaches at Christmas fuels that anxiety


The wellies. Barbours, Hunters, Joules

Need a new pair this year

The dogs, labradoodles, goldendoodles, Aussie doodles

cock a fucking doodle doo


No one actually lives here


They’re all on holiday

And the Rodneys are queuing up God forbid


Here comes the sun

And I say 

it’s all right

Holidays in the sun

Holidays in the winter sun

Holidays in the summer sun


Let’s go elsewhere

The world

The real world









You’ve got some suntan lotion in that bottle of yours

Spread it all over my peeling skin baby

That feels real good

The embodiment of the neo liberal triumph of convincing people to buy something or VOTE for someone that is not in their interest


Some might say that would be a Patek Philippe watch

Or a personalised registration


But I would say it’s the beach

On the Beach


Does anyone actually enjoy sitting on a beach? Really?

As Chomsky says there’s a way out of this, 

You need to rise up, 

You need to believe, 

You need to communicate

Protect those who are not yet born

but it seems forlorn to me


Looks beautiful

Looks fun


Fun Fun Fun

Til her daddy takes the T-Bird away sang the Beach Boys


But it’s too hot

The soles of your feet burn


Burn baby burn 

disco inferno

Dance Dance Dance

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio


Dance on the sand

I was dancing when I was twelve

I was dancing when I was twelve

You can’t get rid of the sand


You dehydrate

Your head hurts

Your skin burns

It kills you 


It kills you


Like lead white face powder 


Like plastic bottles on the beach


On the beach


Doo do do doot do do do do do do


My name is Szczech, Andy Szczech

I'd better go take a swim 

and see if I can cool down a little bit


I could think of a lot worse places to be

Like down in the streets

Or down in the sewer

Or even on the end of skewer


Holidays in the sun

I don’t wanna holiday in the sun

Is it pretty?

Pretty vacant




Sometimes not so Priti

Priti Patel


There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover

The bricks of the land

The Island

Plague Island


We shall go on to the end

We shall fight in France

We shall defend our Island whatever the cost maybe

Shouting Lager Lager Lager


The Empire Strikes Back

Britannia waives the rules


We shall fight on the seas and oceans

We shall fight on the beaches

We shall fight in the hills

We shall never surrender


Oi Jimmy – they’ve killed my scooter

Jimmy Jimmy ooo

Jimbo Jimbo

Zimbo Zimbo

Jingo Jingo

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells


Johnson yells

Here we go

Beware the flag-waving piccaninnies 

Beware the watermelon smiles

Beware those looking like letter boxes


Here comes The Sun

And I say

Well, best if I didn’t


Here’s some sand

Some more sand

Good for burying my head

Back to the beach 


North Norfolk

Holkham beach

On the beach

On The Beach
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