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DOWN AMONG THE SHELTERING PALMS (James Brockman / Abe Olman, 1915) I', way down East, down East, And my heart is pining, pining for you, You're way out West, out West, And my soul is craving, craving for you, I love you so, Just you, I know, It takes six days to go there with a train, Just one week more, and I'll be with you again. I long to be When I was South, down South, There I saw some pretty, pretty places, When I was North, way North, I saw many, many pretty faces, not one so fair, None could compare, There's only one place way out in the West, And you are there, where with you I long to rest. I long to be Down among the sheltering palms, O honey, wait for me, O honey, wait for me; Meet me down by the old Golden Gate, Out where the sun goes down about eight, How my love is burning, burning, burning, How my heart is yearning, yearning, yearning to be down among the sheltering palms, O honey, wait for me!


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