1. On the one side there is London, with its never ending sprawl
Just over the horizon there, the North Downs rise and fall
Silver birch and weeping willow, orchards full of fruit in June
And the whelk-man with his barrow on a Sunday afternoon
There are gypsies on the meadow now, and horses on the green
And the biggest pile of broken cars that you have ever seen
And some folk came from farming stock and lived here long ago
And the others were the overspill from Whitechapel and Bow
Chorus: Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Do you want any shrimps or cockles,
Jellied eels or mussels,
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
2. The boys are climbing trees now and playing in the fields
And sometimes, with the girls, they are laying in the fields
For innocence dies quickly at the age of sixteen
When they send them to a factory to mind the machines
Then they’re climbing on their motor-bikes and riding round in packs
Each with studded leather lady clinging grimly to his back
Married by the age of twenty, with two gaping mouths to feed
And a wife with no ambition who knows only how to breed
Chorus: Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Do you want any shrimps or cockles,
Jellied eels or mussels,
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
3. It’s hop-picking time, wait for the van
Waiting on the corner for the hop-picking man
Then it’s down to the fields, and it’s strip to your backs
Pull them hops for all your worth, and start filling up your sacks
There’s an aching in your back now, and sweat upon your brow
And the foreman’s watchful eye is always on you now
And you know that you’ve been working when you get your pay
And the ale goes down right smoothly at the end of the day
Chorus: Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Do you want any shrimps or cockles,
Jellied eels or mussels,
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
4. It’s holiday time, down to the sea
Get a funny hat, saucy slogan, “Kiss Me!”
A deck-chair each and a square foot of sand
Get a sun-browned belly in the promised land
Have a round or two of bingo when the sun goes down
A few jugs of ale and a night in the town
Choose yourself a lady at the local dance
For a bit of slap-and-tickle and a new romance
Chorus: Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Do you want any shrimps or cockles,
Jellied eels or mussels,
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
5. The old man sits contented with his pipe and jug of ale
And he tells the same old stories till they gradually go stale
Acceptance of his lot is written thickly on his brow
Ambition has long faded, and he doesn’t need it now
For the whelk man’s changed his barrow for a van with ringing bell
There are other changes on the way, as he can plainly tell
Since some folks came from farming stock and lived here long ago
And the others were the overspill from Whitechapel and Bow
Final Chorus: Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Do you want any shrimps or cockles, jellied eels or mussels,
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
Sea food, do you want any whelks today
© Dave Pierce, 1975 and 2020.