Don't forget - it's Tuesday tomorrow....
'ere's a song...
SEVEN GOLDEN MILES FOR ME
The Lasses in wakes weeks come here in flocks,
Take the tram up to Fleetwood to visit the docks.
When paddling in the sea they'd lift up their frocks.
That's where they make Fishermen Friends.
The Farquhars from Chorley with Mary their daughter,
Went up to Lytham, to take the water.
Mary had far too much water than she aughter,
Then she had fish chips --- and pees.
Folk come to Blackpool to do many things,
For t'lights or the fun that each season brings,
To court or to woo or maybe to swing,
Or maybe just do nowt at all.
Two thugs were disputing how they'd kill an hour
One wanted the pier, the other the tower
Thought a grinning gipsy was abusing her power
So they struck a happy medium instead.
The ladies of Pilling are said to be willing
Folk tell me that they will do owt for a shilling,
So all t'lads from Blackpool to Pilling are milling.
To see what they get for two bob.
Go down to the beach, if you take the notion,
To swim in the sea, it's just like an ocean.
They tell me it's just like going through the motions,
It's seven golden miles for me.