No. 7 - Act II Opening Chorus
Chorus: | Sunday at Flacton-on-Sea, Isn't it jolly in summer, Who isn't happy to be Here as a holiday comer? Nothing whatever to do, Nothing to weary your eyes on, All is delightfully blue, Out to the farthest horizon. All is delightfully blue, Out to the farthest horizon. |
Girls: | Some of us go for a beautiful dip, Dressed in the greatest of taste, Dodging the waves as we laugh and we skip Pretty near into the waist. |
1st. Guest: | Some of us lounge with a pipe or cigar, Out in the sun on a chair, Thinking that town is impossibly far, Pitying all who are there. |
Men: | For though again we take the train Tomorrow morn, may be, We'll do our best today to rest At charming Flacton-on-Sea. |
All: | For though again we take the train Tomorrow morn, may be, We'll do our best today to rest At charming Flacton-on-Sea, At charming Flacton-on-Sea, Ha ha! Sunday at Flacton-on-Sea, Weather uncommonly splendid, Let us be lazy and free Here till our holiday's ended. Stroll on the pier and parade, Happy and careless for one day, Lark, or lie down in the shade, Dreaming there isn't a Monday, Lark, or lie down in the shade, Dreaming there isn't a Monday. |
Page modified 7 December 2016