| How pleasant to sit on the beach, |
| On the beach, on the sand, in the sun, |
| With ocean galore within reach, |
| And nothing at all to be done! |
| No letters to answer, |
| No bills to be burned, |
| No work to be shirked, |
| No cash to be earned. |
| It is pleasant to sit on the beach |
With nothing at all to be done.
|
| How pleasant to look at the ocean, |
| Democratic and damp; indiscriminate; |
| It fills me with noble emotion |
| To think I am able to swim in it. |
| To lave in the wave, |
| Majestic and chilly, |
| Tomorrow I crave; |
| But today it is silly. |
| It is pleasant to look at the ocean; |
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.
|
| How pleasant to gaze at the sailors, |
| As their sailboats they manfully sail |
| With the vigor of vikings and whalers |
| In the days of the viking and whale. |
| They sport on the brink |
| Of the shad and the shark; |
| If it’s windy they sink; |
| If it isn’t, they park. |
| It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors, |
To gaze without having to sail.
|
| How pleasant the salt anaesthetic |
| Of the air and the sand and the sun; |
| Leave the earth to the strong and athletic, |
| And the sea to adventure upon. |
| But the sun and the sand |
| No contractor can copy; |
| We lie in the land |
| Of the lotus and poppy; |
| We vegetate, calm and aesthetic, |
| On the beach, on the sand, in the sun. |
