ln that land of dopy dreams, happy peaceful Philippines,
Where the bolo-man is hiking night and day;
Where Tagalos steal and lie, where Americanos die,
There you hear the soldiers sing this evening lay :

Damn, damn, damn the Filipinos, cross-eyed kakiack ladrones,
Underneath our starry flag, civilize 'em with a Krag,
And return us to our own beloved homes.

Underneath the nipa thatch, where the skinny chickens scratch,
Only refuge after hiking all day long,
When I lay me down to sleep, slimy lizards o'er me creep,
Then you hear the soldiers sing this evening song:

Social customs there are few, all the ladies smoke and chew.
And the men do things the padres say are wrong.
But the padres cut no ice -- for they live on fish and rice--
Where you hear the soldiers sing this evening song