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PAHJAMAH (Frank H. Warren / S.R. Henry, D. Onivas, 1919) In a sweetly perfumed spot, where only desert moonbeams creep, Pahjamah's heart is waking, is waking from its sleep, with the beat of tom-tom-tom-tom-tom across the burning sand so softly played, She hears her lover's tinkling, his tinkling serenade. In her dreams Pahjamah hurries to her love at break of day, Together they are riding, they're riding far away, In the cool of evening while the camels rest within a welcome jungle glade, She listens to his tinkling, his tinkling serenade. Come, come to my balmy bungalow, Come with me, Pahjamah, to the jungle oh Love's oasis, a quiet resting place is, my camels wait within the palace gate, Out there, where desert breezes sigh for you, A thousand slaves will gladly live and die for you, Come, Pahjamah! my pretty, pink Pahjamah! Arise, arise, the sun is in the skies!


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