Up here in the land of the hot-dog stand The atom bomb and the Good Humor Man We think our South American neighbors are grand We love 'em to beat the band South America, baba-loo, baba-loo, ay-ee-eh, baba-loo One favor you can do, ay-ee-eh, you can do You beautiful lands below Don't know what you began To put it plainly, I'm tired of shakin' To that Pan-American plan Take back your Samba, ay!, your Rumba, ay!, your Conga, ay-yi-yi! I can't keep movin', ay!, my chassis, ay!, any longer, ay-yi-yi! Now maybe Latins, ay!, in their middles, ay!, are built stronger, ay-yi-yi! But all this takin' to the quakin' and this makin' with the shakin' leaves me achin', olй! First shake around and settle there Then you shake around and settle here Then you shake around and settle there That's enough, that's enough Take it back, my spine's outta-whack There's a strange click-clack In the back of my sacroilliac Take back your Conga, ay!, your Samba, ay!, your Rumba, ay-yi-yi! Why can't you send us, ay!, a less strenu-, ay!, -ous number, ay-yi-yi! I got more bumps now, ay!, than on a, ay!, cucumber, ay-yi-yi! While all those Latin drums are cloppin', like a Jumpin' Jack I'm hoppin' without stoppin', olй! South America, take it away First you shake around and settle there (where?)