Bridlington, oh Bridlington,
I still hear your seagulls screechin'
I still see her fingers reaching
She was 81 when I left Bridlington.
Bridlington, oh Bridlington,
I still hear that guard dog gnashing
While I watch two drunkards slashing
I wipe my bum and dream of Bridlington.
I still see her standing in the chippy
Standing there with "Look North" on TV
And she's gyrating there for me
With her cream "Primark" blouse undone.
Bridlington, oh Bridlington,
She pledged true love undying
Before I told her I'd been lying
Before I watch her first punch firing like a gun
At Bridlington, at Bridlington.
Oh....I'm overcome! A sure-fire hit, for sure!
ReplyDeleteI could strut world stages - Yorkshire's answer to Glen Campbell - though I don't have Alzheimers (yet).
DeleteWell, I wanted to go to Sheffield but that song isn't going to do it!!! Nice try though!
ReplyDeleteBridlington is a lovely coastal Yorkshire town. Did the micro manager ever go there before being exiled from Yorkshire?
DeleteI'll have to ask!
DeleteYou paint such a pretty picture of Bridlington. YP ! Is it really that bad?
ReplyDeleteNo CG. I like Bridlington. It's just that I noticed its syllables follow the same pattern as "Galveston".
Delete