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 Jazz-land band
Is softly moaning, saxophoning, this queer, weird refrain.
Oh you Oriental Melody,
You seem just like a voice that’s 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 Oriental movements free,
Advancing with her dancing that’s entrancing as her smile.