Из альбома: Hula Girl Highway
Down to the Banana Republic
Down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated Americans
Hoping to find some fun.
Some of them go for the sailing
Called by the lure of the sea
Trying to find what is ailing
Living in the land of the free.
Some of them are running from lovers
Leaving no forward address
Some of them of runnin’ tons of ganja
Some are running from the IRS.
Late at night you will find them
In the cheap hotels and bars
Husselin’ the senoritas
While they dance beneath the stars.
Spending those renegade pesos
On a bottle of rum and a line
Singin’ give me some words I can dance to
Or a melody that rhymes.
First you learn the native custom
Soon a word of Spanish or two
You know that you cannot trust them
‘Cause they know they can’t trust you.
Expatriated Americans
Feeling so all alone
Telling themselves the same lies
That they told themselves back home.
Down to the Banana Republics
Things aren’t as warm as they seem
None of the natives are buying
Any second-hand American dreams.
Late at night you will find them
In the cheap hotels and bars
Husslin’ the senoritas
While they dance beneath the stars.
Spending those renegade pesos
On a bottle of rum and a line
Singin’ give me some words I can dance to
Or a melody that rhymes.
Down to the Banana Republic
Down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated Americans
Hoping to find some fun.