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.