(Earl Burtnett / A.J. Stasny, 1919)
Dreaming of the Orient
Fills my heart with discontent
Longing for the days gone by
When we were happy you and I.
Mem 'ries of you by my side
Roaming 'cross the desert wide
Incense perfume fills the air
Oh how I wish that I were there.
In Bangalore I want to be once more
Where moon beams grand form a path on the golden sand
Tropic breeze and whisp'ring trees
They seem to say come back once more
Won't you come back to Bangalore.