FROM HERE TO SHANGHAI
(Irving Berlin, 1917)
I've often wandered down to dreamy Chinatown,
The home of Chingaling. It's fine! I must declare,
But now I'm going where I can see the real, real thing.
I'll have them teaching me to speak their language, gee!
When I can talk Chinese, I'll come home on the run,
Then have a barr'll of fun,
Calling people what I please.
I'll soon be there,
In a bamboo chair,
For I've got my fare, from here to Shanghai.
Just picture me,
Sipping Oolong, tea,
Served by a Chinaman, who speaks away up high. ("Hock-a-my, Hock-a-my".)
I'll eat the way they do, with a pair of wooden sticks,
And I'll have Ching Ling Foo,
Doing all his magic tricks.
I'll get my mail from a pale pigtail,
For I mean to sail,
From here to Shanghai.