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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.


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