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Hunting in the Sea of Japan, |
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Ambrose left the tourist trail behind him. |
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So bold with his gun in his hand, |
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Of his furs there was no need to remind him. |
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Tripping over a Holy Man, |
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Mind that here you don't choose your friends, |
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Ambrose asked for a helping hand, |
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He heaved his chest, and pointed West, |
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To where the river runs. |
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With Josie back home on his mind, |
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Brushing off the fruit flies of the season, |
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And 'Brosie was surely struck blind, |
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By a sight that defies human reason: |
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On an island of gleaming rock, |
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Jutting up from the blue lagoon, |
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A ceremonial music box |
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And from it flowed, a bright new mode, |
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That made our hero swoon. |
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A finer minor from China. |
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The World when the traveler returned, |
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As you know played out its bloody romances. |
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But Ambrose he knew what he'd learned, |
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With his prize in hand he took his chances. |
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Soon the sound that delights the ear, |
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Blended in with the armies' roar. |
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When the warriors strained to hear, |
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This new bebop, this shooting star, |
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Their guns were bullet-full. |
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A finer minor from China. |
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A finer minor from China. |
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A finer minor from China. |
