It's nice to be in England, sitting by the sea
It's nice to taste the tannin film atop the tea
Proper manners, canary yellow flowers
Remember when the air was clear and we could run for hours
Oh la la la la la la la la
Pack the Thermos and the tongue
Put a tenner in the car
The grey outdoors, my still-beating heart
The taste of jams and potted meats
And sticky bags of boiled sweets
A chance to rest my aching feet
Oh everything's so lovely by the sea

Its nice to be in England, staring at the sea
Its nice to tread the edges, stake the boundary
Pink slapped faces, pork pie hats
Pasty white and proud and there is nothing wrong with that

Oh la la la la la la la la
Pack the windbreak and the Vaseline
The video camera
Sandcastles, towers and ramparts
There's something wicked in the woods
There's something wicked in the woods
Wear the mask but show the goods
Pigs and foxes, phones and hoods
There's something wicked in the woods
Oh everything's so lovely by the sea
It's nice to be in England, burning by the sea
(There's something wicked in the woods)
It's nice to be secure in your nationality
(There's something wicked in the woods)
Pink slapped arses, bunion creams
And everybody knows exactly what the comment means
Oh la la la la la la la la
Flash the headlamps once
But keep the locks down in the car
Wall's ice cream, Marks and Spencer's bras
The stink of flesh and cigarettes
The Secret codes and etiquettes

The nasty jokes and idle threats
And barbecues and coal briquettes
And everyone here says the same
So why should I feel any shame?
And after all we're not to blame
And everyone here says the same
And everyone here says the same
And don't you know my fucking name?
And everybody round here says
That everything's so lovely by the sea