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.