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, called by the lure of the sea
Tryin' 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 are running tons of ganja
Some are running from the IRS

Late at night, you will find them in the cheap hotels and bars
Hustling the señoritas 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 can't 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 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
Hustling the señoritas 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

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Jim Rothermel, Steve Goodman