Fellows, if you're arn
I will spin a yarn
That was told to me by Able Seaman Jones.
Once he had the blues
So he took a cruise
Far away from night-clubs and from saxophones.
He said, "Yo Ho, I've made a certain port
And when you talk about real he-man sport":
Hot ginger and dynamite
There's nothing but that at night
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
The way they can entertain
Would hurry a hurricane
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky wacky
Woo.
In Fujiama
You get a mama
Then your troubles increase.
In some pagoda
She orders soda
Earth-shake milk-shakes, ten cents a piece.
They kissy and huggy nice
Oh, By Jingo! I'ts worth the price.
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
Now when the day is warm
You can keep in form
With a bowl of rice beneath a parasol.
Every gentle man
Has to use a fan
And they only use suspenders in the fall.
That's where the girls don't think of rings and furs.
Gosh, it's the nicest place that ever weres.
They give you a carriage free
The horse is a Japanee
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
They sit you upon the floor
No wonder your pants get sore
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
With Sweet Kimoner
I pulled a boner
I kept it up at high speed.
I got rhumatics
And then psyatics
Halatosisis, that's guarenteed.
You just have to act your age
Or wind up inside a cage
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
With an ice-cream cone and a bottle of tea
You can rest all day by the hickory tree
But when night comes round, oh gosh oh gee,
Mother, mother, mother, pin a rose on me.
Those pretty mamas
In pink pyjamas
They try to give you a kiss
Those torid teases
In B.V.D.ses
Heaven help a sailor on a night like this!
Not too gentle and not too rough
But you've got to tell them when you've had enough
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
Writer(s): Harry Warren, Mort Dixon
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