Walking along on the shingle spit At Keyhaven near to Milford on Sea You can almost touch the Isle of Wight Less than a mile away o'er the lea.
Crab-fishing next at Mudeford Quay With Lizzie and Sam on the nets When off flies my hat which then lands in the sea Chase is given but I’m taking no bets.
Later, me new-hatted, we sit by a pub Enjoying our lunch and a chat And we laugh at the turn of events in the day Particularly at the flight of my hat.
Wearily later to our lodgings we go Chicken Cacciatore for dinner, by me We then all collapse and nod off to sleep This just always will happen by the sea.