By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea—
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
Oh, the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin’-fishes play,
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ’crost the bay!
When the mist was on the rice fields an’ the sun was droppin’ slow,
She’d git ’er little banjo an she’ sing ‘Kulla-lo-lo!’
With ’er arm upon my shoulder an’ ’er cheek agin my cheek,