The crowded beaches are no more.
The sun's goes down on barren shore.
Buckets and spades all packed away.
Hoping for a better day.
When perchance you saw someone
Nudely lurking 'neath the pier.
Without her fish-net tights and her suspenders
Then suddenly she just remembers.
The oldest profession in the world
Is your mother 'cos she knows
How to get the sand from between your toes
And makes you do as you are told!