The Girl Friend of the Whirling Dervish
One fine day, I chanced to stray On a little side street in old Bombay And met a sentimental oriental She saw me and I saw she Had a manner too bold and much too free Her eyes were positively detrimental When I asked about this gay coquette I discovered much to my regret She's the girl friend of the whirling dervish She's the sweetest one he's found But ev'ry night, in the mellow moonlight When he's out dervishing with all his might She gives him the run-around All the boy friends of the whirling dervish Are his best friends to his face But there's no doubt, when he isn't about They all come hurrying to take her out She leads him a dizzy pace He dreams of a Hindu honeymoon He doesn't dream that ev'ry night when he goes out To make an honest rupee She steps out to make a lotta whoopee Oh, the love song of the whirling dervish Has a sweet and tender sound But will he burn if he ever should learn That while he's doing her a real good turn She gives him the runaround She's got a nervish, throwin' him a curvish Which, of course, he doesn't deservish Poor old whirling dervish!
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