Noël Coward - I Like America lyrics

Girls: Tell us, sailor, Tell us, please, For we're terribly keen to know What it's like to be fancy free Footloose on the rolling sea? China girl chop-chop, Gay Maltese, Hot Mommas from Mexico- Harry: If you'll forgive a crude remark And don't resent a rude remark I'll let you into a secret- Girls: Well? Harry: They're all alike in the dark! Girls: There must have been Some place you've seen Superior to the rest? Harry: As a matter of fact With political tact I like America best. Girls: There's a good time a-comin on de ole plantation For a jolly Jack Tar Has just confessed The he likes America best! Verse 1 Harry: I don't care for China, Japan's far too small, I've rumbled the Rio Grande, I hate Asia Minor, I can't bear Bengal And I shudder to think Of the awful stink On the road to Samarkand. Harry: I like America, I have played around Every slappy-happy hunting ground But I find America-okay. I've been about a bit But I must admit That I didn't know the half of it Till I hit the U.S.A. No likely la** In Boston, Ma**. From pa**ion will recoil. In Dallas, Tex. They talk of s** But only think of oil. New Jersey dames Go up in flames If someone mentions-bed. In Chicago, Illinois Any girl who meets a boy Giggles and shoots him dead! But I like America Its Society Offers infinite variety And come what may I shall return some day To the good old U.S.A. Verse 2 Harry: I've loathed every acre From Cannes to Canton, I also deplore Bombay, I've jeered at Jamaica And seen through Ceylon, And exploded the myth Of those Flying Fith On the Road to Mandalay. Girls: We'll never mith Those blasted fith On the road to Mandalay. Harry: But I like America, I have traveled far From Northumberland to Zanzibar And I find America-okay. I've roamed the Spanish Main Eaten sugar-cane But I never tasted cellophane Till I struck the U.S.A. All delegates From Southern States Are nervy and distraught. In New Orleans The wrought-iron screens Are dreadfully overwrought. Beneath each tree In Tennessee Erotic books are read. And when alligators thud Through the Mississippi mud Sex rears its ugly head. But-I like America, Every scrap of it, All the sentimental crap of it And come what may Give me a holiday In the good old U.S.A.