You wish you had a motor boat to pose around the harbor bar
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
But behind the chalet, my holiday’s complete
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet

And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
When the sun goes off to bed, you hook it up behind the car
In for bingo all the nines, a panda for sweet little niece
Pulling mussels from the shell
A He-man in a sudden shower shelters from the rain
Pulling mussels from the shell

Pulling mussels from the shell
Pulling mussels from the shell
And I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from the shell
Surfers drop their boards and dry and everybody wants a hat
But behind the chalet, my holiday’s complete
Shrinking in the sea so cold, topless ladies look away
Pulling mussels from the shell
Two fat ladies window shop something for the mantelpiece

Squinting faces at the sky, a Harold Robbins paperback

The coach drivers stand about looking at a local map
But behind the chalet, my holiday’s complete
About the boy, he’s gone away, down to next door’s caravan
But behind the chalet, my holiday’s complete
Pulling mussels from the shell