baby squirrel
2005-09-11 10:09:35 UTC
In 1917, a ragtime piano song entitled "Ching Chong" was co-written by
Ted Baxter and Max Kortlander. Its lyrics are listed below for your
enlightenment about US history. To read more about it, see
Wilkpedia.com
Way out in old San Fran, there is a Chinaman
Who's known for miles around;
Wonderful place he keeps, down where he eats and sleeps,
Way underneath the ground!
Each night the festive chinks come there to wink and blink,
And dream away the hours.
They sing this funny song while they are borne along
On beds of poppy flow'rs:
"Ching, Chong, Oh Mister Ching Chong,
You are the king of Chinatown.
Ching Chong, I love your sing-song,
When you have turned the lights all down;
Ching Chong, just let me swing long,
Through the realms of Drowsy Land;
Dreaming while stars are beaming,
Oh Mister Ching Chong, sing-song man."
When you're in Frisco Town don't fail to drop around
And see this Ching Chong man.
Wonderful things you'll learn down where the torches burn,
He'll show you all he can.
Then when the time is ripe he'll fill your little pipe
And then a light he'll bring.
Gently you'll float away far out on Slumber Bay,
And softly you will sing:
"Ching Chong, Oh Mister Ching Chong,
You are the king of Chinatown.
Ching Chong, I love your sing-song,
When you have turned the lights all down;
Ching Chong, just let me swing long,
Through the realms of Drowsy Land;
Dreaming while stars are beaming,
Oh Mister Ching Chong, sing-song man."
Sometimes "ching chong" is combined with another anti-Chinese slur,
that of "Chinaman;" the combination is often used in nursery-style
rhymes, such as:
Ching Chong Chinaman sitting on a fence,
Trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents.
Along came a choo-choo train,
Knocked him in the cuckoo-brain,
And that was the end of the fifteen cents.
Ted Baxter and Max Kortlander. Its lyrics are listed below for your
enlightenment about US history. To read more about it, see
Wilkpedia.com
Way out in old San Fran, there is a Chinaman
Who's known for miles around;
Wonderful place he keeps, down where he eats and sleeps,
Way underneath the ground!
Each night the festive chinks come there to wink and blink,
And dream away the hours.
They sing this funny song while they are borne along
On beds of poppy flow'rs:
"Ching, Chong, Oh Mister Ching Chong,
You are the king of Chinatown.
Ching Chong, I love your sing-song,
When you have turned the lights all down;
Ching Chong, just let me swing long,
Through the realms of Drowsy Land;
Dreaming while stars are beaming,
Oh Mister Ching Chong, sing-song man."
When you're in Frisco Town don't fail to drop around
And see this Ching Chong man.
Wonderful things you'll learn down where the torches burn,
He'll show you all he can.
Then when the time is ripe he'll fill your little pipe
And then a light he'll bring.
Gently you'll float away far out on Slumber Bay,
And softly you will sing:
"Ching Chong, Oh Mister Ching Chong,
You are the king of Chinatown.
Ching Chong, I love your sing-song,
When you have turned the lights all down;
Ching Chong, just let me swing long,
Through the realms of Drowsy Land;
Dreaming while stars are beaming,
Oh Mister Ching Chong, sing-song man."
Sometimes "ching chong" is combined with another anti-Chinese slur,
that of "Chinaman;" the combination is often used in nursery-style
rhymes, such as:
Ching Chong Chinaman sitting on a fence,
Trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents.
Along came a choo-choo train,
Knocked him in the cuckoo-brain,
And that was the end of the fifteen cents.