On Saturday night when my work is through
I always call for Marie
Then we hop on a bicycle built for two
And go scorching down to the sea
After one or two words to the German band
We go strolling under the moon
Then we find a good spot on the silvery sand
And gee whiz, how we spoon!
You ought to see little me and Marie
By the old sea side
By the ocean we pet, and we pet, and we pet
‘Til we get swept out by the tide
You may have been to Paris
And had both of your eyes open wide, but
You ought to see me and Marie by the old sea side
If you want to see a thing of beauty
You should see me spooning with my little cutie
By the old sea side
For where once we get the proper settin’
We begin a-pettin’ and go on a-pettin’
Till we end by getting such an awful wettin’ from the tide
You may have been to Paris...
Till we finally find a spot where we can hide then
Until the crowing of the chickens
Me and my Marie proceed to raise the dickens
By the old sea side