It’s time to go on holiday, crank up the Bedford Van,
Get Aunty Flo and Little Mo and George and Uncle Dan,
Let’s go down to the Yarmouth pier to buy some candy floss,
And as we’re here let’s stay all week and damn the bloomin’ cost.
But on Monday we lost Herbert, we think, perhaps he’s drowned,
But he was an irritating little brat, so we don’t care if he’s found.
Then on Tuesday we lost Grandma, we think she was run down,
We’ll no longer hear her carping, I think no-one’s going to frown.
On Wednesday it was Mum’s turn, she joined a striptease show,
But the cow was always showing her arse, we’re glad to see her go.
Though Uncle Dan became depressed, and jumpéd of the pier,
At last his rancid armpit stench is no longer with us here.
Friday started quietly, but got Dad at half-past three,
He connected with an electric eel when in a rock pool he did pee.
By Saturday, although dwindling, we lost Nelly at the fair,
(Actually, we sold her to some medics, who said her blood was rare!)
So that’s the end of our holiday, we have to go back home,
But we have the keys to Grandma’s house, which we’ll sell and move to Rome.
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