Seven miles of golden sand

With seven miles of golden sand
and a lighthouse on nine legs
Radioactive murky water
and seagulls with two heads

The beach is like quicksand
Like a whore it will swallow you whole
Surrounded by poundshops
and tourists on the dole

With vomit stained pavements
The seagulls eat for free
The high streets like a war zone
In good old Burnham on Sea

Strangers stop in wonder
What sort of place is this
A 21st century seaside town
Where the drunks they stop to piss

With seven miles of golden sand
and a lighthouse on nine legs
Radioactive murky water
and seagulls with two heads

Coffin dodgers roam the streets
Like the Night of the living dead
With zimmer frames and walking sticks
They're jousting for their bread

Topless middle aged Tourists
With beer bellys and hairy hooters
Hit and run drink driving
In shop mobility scooters

With seven miles of golden sand
and a lighthouse on nine legs
Radioactive murky water
and seagulls with two heads

A concrete jungle this is not
The sea air leads me astray
My home town I love and hate
on a glorious summers day