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It’s four-tops weather this morning
It’s the same old song, I don’t care
Baby I need your love, not a gale warning
Can’t help myself, reach out, I’ll be there
We’re down by the station very early
A train seems a great idea
The turbine is turning like fury
Waves soaking us over the pier
We grind along to Great Yarmouth
Progress is slow by the shore
The average speed on my Garmin
Is something I have to ignore
By 1760, already a resort
Great Yarmouth was built on herring
Two Wetherspoon breakfasts get bought
That’s 3,000 calories we’re sharing
We push slowly along to Sea Palling
Across mile after mile of marsh flat
The sea wall here is enthralling
The ‘53 flood caused that
Our route starts to zigzag madly
First northerly then to the west
One direction we roll along gladly
The other’s a serious test
Edward the seventh played golf at a place
Where Cromer crab is roundly derided
Then we’re off on wild goose chase
For goods Claire was never provided.
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