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

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!