Across the sand and desert land, from Hindustan,
Has come a strain, my weary brain it’s driving most insane,
I hear it played, it’s cabaret’d, each Jazzland band
Is softly moaning, saxophoning this queer, weird refrain.
Oh you Oriental Melody
You seem just like a voice calling me,
Far across the Eastern sea,
Your dreamy sentimental harmony
Comes gently stealing, to me appealing,
That minor key appeals to me, I seem to see
A lovely maid, when it is played, arrayed in Hindu style,
With temp’ramental [sic] Oriental movements free,
Advancing with her dancing that’s entrancing as her smile.