Pollution and Albert
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.
A fearless young lad was our Albert,
And plunged in the waves without fail.
'E swallowed 'is fair share of water,
Then spouted it out, like a whale.
'E paddled 'is feet in the breakers
And swam on his back by the 'our,
There wasn't no holdin' the feller:
For 'e climbed up and dived off the Tower.
'E 'urtled past folk like a Turtle
As 'ad mugged up on Ninja, the vandal,
For 'e didn't think much to the donkeys
Or a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle.
When Albert swam back to a picnic
'E were quick as the flash of a comet,
Then his Ma, who had buttered 'is sandwich,
Saw 'er lad keel right over, and vomit.
Pa said, 'Our Albert looks poorly,'
For 'is skin were all flaky and sore,
There was spots on 'is tongue and his tummy:
So they gave all the Lifeguards what-for.
The Tourist Board said it were sorry,
And why not try Windscale-on-Sea?
'What, slice all this bread,' said his Mother
'So the lad chucks it up, sir? Not me!'