Lyrics:

Shipmates listen unto me. I'll tell you in my song of things that happened to me when I come home from Hong Kong.

To me way, you Santy, my dear Annie.
Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

As I walked down to Chatham Street, a fair maid I did meet.
She asked me, please, to see her home.
She lived on Bleecker Street
Now, if you'll only come with me, you can have a treat.
You can have a glass of brandy and something nice to eat.

To me way, you Santy, my dear Annie.
Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

Before we sat down to eat, we had sev'ral drinks.
The liquor was so awful strong, I quickly fell asleep.

To me way, you Santy, my dear Annie.
Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

When I awoke next mornin, I had an achin' head.
My gold watch and my pocketbook and the lady friend had fled.
Now dressed in the lady's apron, I wandered most forlorn
'Till Martin Churchill took me in and he sent me round Cape Horn.

To me way, you Santy, my dear Annie.
Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?