I beg yer pardon, mama, wha' did ye say?
Me mind was driftin' off on Martinique Bay.
'tis nah that I be nah interested, ye see;
Augusta, Georgia be jus' no ship t' be.
I reckon Jamaican in th' moonlight.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
We got no doubloons, mama, but we can go;
We'll split th' difference, go t' Coconut Grove.
Keep on natterin', mama, I can hear
Yer voice, it tickles down inside o' me ear.
I feel a tropical vacation this year,
Might be th' answer t' this bucaneer fear.
I reckon Jamaican in th' moonlight.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
We got no doubloons, mama, but we can go;
We'll split th' difference, go t' Coconut Grove.
Voila! An American Dream.
Well, we can travel lass, without any means.
When 'tis as easy as closin' yer eyes
'n dream Jamaica be a big neon sign.
Jus' keep natterin', mama, I like that sound.
It goes so easy wit' that rain fallin' down.
I reckon a tropical vacation this year,
Might be th' answer t' this hillbilly fear.
Voila! An American Dream.
Yeah, we can travel, lass, without any means.
When 'tis as easy as closin' yer eyes
'n dream Jamaica be a big neon sign.
Jus' reckon Jamaican in th' moonlight.
Sandy beaches, drinkin' rum every night.
We got no doubloons, mama, but we can go;
We'll split th' difference, go t' Coconut Grove.