Harem Life

While trav’ling through Turkey in my dreams
I chanced to stray
Right into a harem and it seems
They let me stay
I spoke to the Sultan’s favorite wife
Before I fled
I asked her how she liked harem life
Here’s what she said
Living in a harem, what a life
Ne’er a thought of care or strife
Waiting on the Sultan night and day
Ever ready to obey
He keeps me dancing morning, noon and night
Dancing fills 'im with delight
I am black and blue from the dance I do But outside of that ev’ry little thing’s all right
I wanted to know how many wives
The Sultan had
She answered each day a wife arrives
Fresh from Baghdad
How did he continue on that plan
So many years?
She answered «He's just a poor old man
With young ideas»
Eight of the Sultan’s wives are we And there are a whole lot more
Weekdays he marries two or three
And Sundays he marries four
He has a hundred agents who
Lead very busy lives
Keep him supplied with wives
And now we’ll tell in rhyme
Just how we spend our time
Ev’ry morning to his bed I bring his toast and tea
I prepare his bath for that’s the job he gave to me
I massage his brow because he likes my gentle touch
I then manicure his nails and never hurt him much
I bring him his slippers ev’ry evening after eight
I then fetch his cigarettes upon a silver plate
I arrange his bed at nine, he gets so sleepy then
I begin to dance and then he’s wide awake again
And then we all dance to the vision of Salome