Words and music by: Jimmy Buffett 1996



(1st Verse) Some folks say that I've got the perfect life. Three swell

kids, lots of toys and a lovely wife.

I fly. I sail. I throw caution to the wind. Drift like a stratus cloud

above the Caribbean.

But every now and then, the dragons come to call.

Just when you least expect it, you'll be dodgin' cannon balls.

I've seen too much not to stay in touch with a world made of love and luck

I've got a big suspicion 'bout ammunition. I never forget to duck.



(1st Chorus) Come back, come back Back to Jamaica.

Don chu you know, we made a big mistaica.

We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye

And we promise not to shoot you out of the sky.



(2nd Verse) It was a beautiful day, the kind you want to toast.

We were treetop flyin', movin' west along the coast.

We landed in the water just about my favorite thrill.

When some asshole started firin' as we taxied to Negril.



(4 bar turnaround)



(3rd Verse) Just about to lose my temper as I endeavored to explain.

We had only come for chicken, we were not the ganja plane.

Well you should have seen their faces when they finally realized.

We were not some coked-up cowboys sportin' guns and alibies.



(2nd Chorus) Come back, come back. Back to Jamaica.

Don chu you know we made a big mistaica.

We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye,

and we promise not to shoot you out of the sky.



(4 bar turnaround)



They shot from the lighthouse, they shot from the highway, they shot from

the top of the cliff.

They'd all gone haywire, and we're catchin' fire, and there wasn't even a

spliff, ho!



(16 bar instrumental)



Well, the word got out all over the island.

Friends, strangers, they were all apologizin'.

Some thought me crazy for bein' way too nice.

But it's just another shitty day in paradise.



(3rd Chorus) Come back, come back Back to Jamaica.

Don chu know, we made a big mistaica.

We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye.

And we promise not to shoot you out of the sky



(Outro) Come back, come back Back to Jamaica.

Don't you know, we made a big mistaica.

We'd be so sad if you told us goodbye.

And we promise not to shoot you, promise not to shoot you,

Promise not to shoot you out of the sky.



(Transcribed from "Banana Wind" liner by T.R. Violante)