| Eb | Ab | | D | own the way, where the n | ights are gay, |
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| Eb | Bb7 | Eb | | And the s | un shines d | aily on the m | ountain top, |
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| Ab | | I took a trip on a s | ailing ship, |
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| Eb | Bb7 | Eb | | And when I re | ached Ja | maica, I made a s | top. |
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| | | Eb | Ab | | | But I'm s | ad to say, I'm | on my way, |
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| | | Bb7 | Eb | | | W | on't be back for m | any a day, |
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| | | Ab | | | My heart is down, my head is t | urning around, |
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| | | Eb | Bb7 | Eb | | | I had to l | eave a little g | irl in Kingston t | own. |
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Sounds of laughter everywhere, |
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And the dancing girls sway to and fro, |
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I must declare, my heart is there, |
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'Though I've been from Maine to Mexico. |
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Down at the market, you can hear, |
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Ladies cry out while on their heads they bear, |
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Aki rice, swordfish are nice, |
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And the rum is fine any time of year. |
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