Down to the banana republics, down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated americans, hopin to find some fun
Some of them go for the sailing, caught by the lure of the sea
Tryin to find what is ailing, livin in the land of the free

Some of them are running from lovers, leaving no foreward address
Some of them are running tons of ganja
Some are running from the i.r.s.

Chorus:
Late at night you will find them
In the cheap hotels and bars
Hustling the senioritas while they dance beneath the stars
Spending those renegade pesos on a bottle of rum and a lime
Singin give me some words I can dance to
Or a melody that rhymes

First you learn the native customs
Soon a word of spanish or two
You know that you cannot trust them
cause they know they cant trust you
Expatriated americans feelin so all alone
Telling themselves the same lies
That they told themselves back home

Down to the banana republics, things arent as warm as they seem
None of the natives are buying any second-hand american dreams

Chorus:
Late at night you will find them
In the cheap hotels and bars
Hustling the senioritas while they dance beneath the stars
Spending those renegade pesos on a bottle of rum and a lime
Singin give me some words I can dance to
Or a melody that rhymes

Down to the banana republics, down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated americans hopin to find some fun

See also:
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