FAR off in the waste of desert sand, The Jim-jam rules in the Jou-jou land: He sits on a throne of red-hot rocks, And moccasin snakes are his curling locks; And the Jou-jous have the conniption fits In the far-off land where the Jim-jam sits -- If things are now as things were then. Allah il Allah! Oo-aye! Amen! The country's so dry in Jou-jou land You could wet it down with Sahara sand, And over its boundaries the air Is hotter than 'tis -- no matter where: A camel drops down completely tanned When he crosses the line in Jou-jou land -- If things are now as things were then. Allah il Allah! Oo-aye! Amen! A traveller once got stuck in the sand On the fiery edge of Jou-jou land; The Jou-jous they confiscated him, And the Jim-jam tore him limb from limb; But, dying, he said: "If eaten I am, I'll disagree with this Dam-jim-jam! He'll think his stomach's a Hoodoo's den!" Allah il Allah! Oo-aye! Amen! Then the Jim-jam felt so bad inside, It just about humbled his royal pride. He decided to physic himself with sand, And throw up his job in the Jou-jou land. He descended his throne of red-hot rocks, And hired a barber to cut his locks: The barber died of the got-'em-again. Allah il Allah! Oo-aye! Amen! And now let every good Mussulman Get all the good from this tale he can. If you wander off on a Jamboree, Across the stretch of the desert sea, Look out that right at the height of your booze You don't get caught by the Jou-jou-jous! You may, for the Jim-jam's at it again. Allah il Allah! Oo-aye! Amen! |