Frenchmen sailing from their homes
fear the heartache like a storm.
Englishmen are running scared,
no longer feeling debonair.

And you go on,
thrilling with your siren song.
They want you oh, so bad, deep, deep down.
They want you oh, so bad.
They want you.

Our wives watch us from their rooms.
They see your lips as open tombs.
A love so strong we can't escape
keeps us from your arms.

Yet you go on,
thrilling with your siren song.
We want you oh, so bad, deep, deep down.
We want you oh, so bad.

We all feel the push and pull
of our lust upon the hulls
but I will veer around with care
and make it back to the Devon air.
I will make it back to her.