| In tropical climes there are certain times of day
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| When all the citizens retire,
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| to tear their clothes off and perspire.
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| It’s one of those rules that the biggest fools obey,
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| Because the sun is much too sultry and one must avoid
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| its ultry-violet ray --
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| Papalaka-papalaka-papalaka-boo. |
| (Repeat)
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| Digariga-digariga-digariga-doo. |
| (Repeat)
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| The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts,
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| Because they’re obviously, absolutely nuts --
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| Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
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| The Japanese don’t care to, the Chinese wouldn’t dare to,
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| Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one,
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| But Englishmen detest a siesta,
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| In the Philippines there are lovely screens,
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| to protect you from the glare,
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| In the Malay states there are hats like plates,
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| which the Britishers won’t wear,
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| At twelve noon the natives swoon, and
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| no further work is done —
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| But Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
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| It’s such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see,
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| That though the British are effete,
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| they’re quite impervious to heat,
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| When the white man rides, every native hides in glee,
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| Because the simple creatures hope he will
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| impale his solar topee on a tree.
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| Bolyboly-bolyboly-bolyboly-baa. |
| (Repeat)
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| Habaninny-habaninny-habaninny-haa. |
| (Repeat)
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| It seems such a shame that when the English claim the earth
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| That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth —
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| Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
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| The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it.
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| In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun.
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| They put their scotch or rye down, and lie down.
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| In the jungle town where the sun beats down,
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| to the rage of man or beast,
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| The English garb of the English sahib merely gets a bit more creased.
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| In Bangkok, at twelve o’clock, they foam at the mouth and run,
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| But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
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| Mad Dogs and Englishmen, go out in the midday sun.
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| The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this stupid habit.
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| In Hong Kong, they strike a gong, and fire off a noonday gun.
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| To reprimand each inmate, who’s in late.
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| In the mangrove swamps where the python romps
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| there is peace from twelve till two.
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| Even caribous lie down and snooze, for there’s nothing else to do.
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| In Bengal, to move at all, is seldom if ever done,
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| But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. |