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Our hotel is well past its best
Does it deserve a Royal crest?
We think we’ve come
To our nursing home
One foot in the grave every guest
Six miles of funfair decay
Caravans jammed where they may
How badly our nation
Needs rejuvenation
I hope they sweep this lot away
For Grimsby we’ve got a long list
Of things that are not to be missed
The Old Clee and the Docks
A man who made clocks
A father-in-law’s home is the twist
We manage most of these, thank god
(The clock maker’s a Grimsby fraud)
Having finished with wheels
The reward is in Steel’s
Where I’ve been told not to order the cod
We missed out on the tarts tonight
We’ll pick them up in daylight
No, not dodgy birds
But haslet or curd
Which, I’m told, can also delight.
12 days, 600 miles, five minutes of light rain, one puncture, one new wheel, one broken key, a couple of mishaps and a lot of fun.
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