| We’re off on the road to Morocco
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| This camel is tough on the spine (hit me with a band-aid, Dad)
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| Where they’re going, why we’re going, how can we be sure
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| I’ll lay you eight to five that we’ll meet Dorothy Lamour
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| (Yeah, get in line)
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| Off on the road to Morocco
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| Hang on till the end of the line (I like your jockey. Quiet)
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| I hear this country’s where they do the dance of the seven veils
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| We’d tell you more (uh-ah) but we would have the censor on our tails
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| (Good boy)
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| We certainly do get around
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| Like Webster’s Dictionary we’re Morocco bound
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| We’re off on the road to Morocco
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| Well look out, well clear the way, 'cause here we come
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| Stand by for a concussion
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| The men eat fire, sleep on nails and saw their wives in half
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| It seems to me there should be easier ways to get a laugh
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| (Shall I slip on my big shoes?)
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| Off on the road to Morocco
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| Hooray! |
| Well blow a horn, everybody duck
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| Yeah. |
| It’s a green light, come on boys
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| We may run into villains but we’re not afraid to roam
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| Because we read the story and we end up safe at home (yeah)
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| Certainly do get around
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| Like Webster’s Dictionary we’re Morocco bound
|
| We certainly do get around
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| Like a complete set of Shakespeare that you get
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| In the corner drugstore for a dollar ninety-eight
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| We’re Morocco bound
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| Or, like a volume of Omar Khayyam that you buy in the
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| Department store at Christmas time for your cousin Julia
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| We’re Morocco bound
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| (We could be arrested) |