I want to go back to my little grass shack in Kealakekua,
I want to be with all the kanes and wahines that I knew long ago.
I can hear old guitars a-playing on the beach at Ho-o-nau-nau;
I can hear the Ha-wai-ians saying, "Ko-mo-mai-no-ka-u-a-i-ka-ha-le-we-la-ka-hao."
It won't be long till my ship will be sailing back to Kona,
A grand old place that's always fair to see.
I'm just a little Hawaiian and a homesick Island boy;
I want to go back to my fish and poi.
I want to go back to my little grass shack in Kealakekua, Hawaii,
Where the Hu-ma-hu-mu, Nu-ku-nu-ku a pu-a-a goes swimming by,
Where the Hu-mu-hu-mu, Nu-ku-mu-ku a pu-a-a goes swimming by.