Songs by Pilgrim

In tropical climes there are certain times of day when all the citizens retire to tear their clothes off and perspire.

It's one of those rules the greatest fools obey because the sun is much too sultry and one must avoid the old tree violet ray.

Oh, hop-a-locka, pop-a-locka, pop-a-locka-boo, hop-a-locka, pop-a-locka, pop-a-locka-boo, dee-ga-ree-ga, dee-ga-ree-ga, dee-ga-ree-ga-doo, dee-ga-ree-ga, dee-ga-ree-ga, dee-ga-ree-ga-doo.

The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts.

Because they're obviously, definitely

nuts.

Oh,

mad

dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

The Japanese won't care to.

The Chinese wouldn't dare to.

Hindus and Argentines sleep early from 12 to 1.

But Englishmen detesta siesta.

In the Philippines, there are lovely screens to protect you from the glare.

In the Malay states, there are hats like plates which the Britishers won't wear.

At 12 noon, the natives swoon, and no further work is done.

But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

It's such a surprise for the eastern eyes to see, That though the English are a feat, they're quite

impervious to heat, While the white men ride every naked hives with glee.

Because the simple

creatures

hope he will impale his solar topi to a tree.

It seems such a shame when the English

claim the Earth

that they give rise to such hilarity and