Running Down to Cuba
To Cuba's coast we are bound, me boys,
'Way, me boys, for Cuba!
To Cuba's coast, now don't you make a noise,
And we're running down to Cuba.
The captain he will trim the sails
Winging the water over the rails.
Oh my God! How the wind do blow
Running south from the ice and the snow.
Give me a gal who can dance the 'dango
Round as a melon and sweet as a mango.
To Cuba's coast we are bound away
To Cuba's coast at the breaking of the day.
(I've got a gal about nine feet tall etc. etc._)