She will kiss 'til your lips bleed
But she will not take her dress off
Americana, tropicana

All the sailor boys have demons
They sing "Oh Kentucky why did you forsake me?
If I was meant to sail the sea
Why did you make me?
Should've been another state
Oh state

'Cause Mary Anne's the bitch
Mary Anne's the bitch..."

Does it matter that our anchors
Couldn't even reach the bottom of a bath tub?
And the sails reflect the moon
It's such a strange job
Playing Black Jack on the deck
Still, atop this giant bottle dressed in white
We quietly huddle with our missiles
And we miss the girls back home
Oh, home sweet home

Mary Anne's the bitch
Mary Anne's the bitch...

She will kiss until your lips bleed
But she will not take her dress off
Americana, tropicana
Americana, tropicana
Americana, americana