BAGDAD

BAGDAD
BAGDAD
Song
Victor Herbert
James O’Dea
Elsie Janis, Montgomery and Stone
M. Witmark & Sons
“Lady of the Slipper”
The reference to the “mystic shrine” may include the Masonic order members in their oriental garb, noted for their partying and therefore suitable to utter a remark, “Allah’s great, but, oh you kid,” a take-off on the line “I love my wife, but, oh you kid.”

“Bread and butter charges” may refer to a charge imposed by restaurants for the basic table setting [when did this begin in New York?].

A “flivver” was a small, inexpensive car, but here it is used in the sense of “fizzle” or “failure.”

Bagdad is a town in Turkey,
On a camel tall and jerkey,
You can journey there and see
Just how great it used to be.
Minarets and temples gaudy,
rugs and carpets real and shoddy,
Gay bazars [sic] that make you say,
Dreaming of a by-gone day:

CHORUS:
“Life was fair and fine in Bagdad,
Land of langourous delights,
Oh, those dancing girls entrancing,
And oh, those pink Arabian nights. Ah!
Girlies gay in silken trousers,
Suffragettes, No? No?
But the women of the harem
knew exactly how to wear them
In Oriental Bagdad, long ago.

Where La Belle Fatima’s daughter,
Was a headline “turkey trotter,”
Mecca-bound, is [?”in”] Allah’s care,
Many pilgrims tarried there.
Mystic shriners gone before us,
Helped to swell that Pilgrim’s chorus,
And they chanted, yes they did,
“Allah’s great, but, oh you kid!”

CHORUS:
“Life was fair and fine in Bagdad,
In the balmy summer air,
Oh, those date trees, simply great trees,
And oh, those sloe-eyed damsels there. Ah!
Though they had no brilliant Broadway,
If you had the dough,
You could have a celebration
Greater than a coronation,
In Oriental Bagdad, long ago.

Hold-up copers, pistol toters,
Taxi cheaters, female voters,
In old Bagdad were taboo,
Bread and butter charges, too.
To increase the population,
Was the fav’rite recreation,
Allah smiled on all such things,
Allah always pulls the strings.

CHORUS:
“Life was fair and fine in Bagdad,
City fair of mystic spells,
Oh, those olden temples golden,
And oh, those spicy garlic smells. Ah!
There they had no alimony,
No divorce? No! No!
When your wife turned out a “fliv[v]er,”
You’d just toss her in the river;
In Oriental Bagdad, long ago.

Turkey
BAGDAD