By the pier
But with no real money
So quite unable
To play the slot machines
Much then as it was
As a ten-year old
On Blackpool’s golden mile
Of penny arcades
Which in turn remind me
Of the girl who I asked to wait
at the South Shore pleasure beach
While I went back to Albert Road
Unfortunately the memory
Does not remember why I left
Or what was so god-damned important
That I needed to go and collect it
