Beyond the Himalaya mountains,
Where flows the great Tsanpo,
Beside old Tibet’s laughing fountains
Gay, festive flowers grow.
To hands of merry youth and maiden
They yield their radiant bloom,
And all the balmy air is laden
With rich and rare perfume
One very little drop, placed so,
One tiny little whiff, and lo!
Something seems tingle-ingle-ingle-ingle-ingleing so queer,
Here in your ear,
Nearer and near,
Like some strange mingling
Why, you want to cry,
You want to die,
But all you do is laugh,
You’ve got the High Jinks!
The Roman god of jubilation
Old Momus was his name,
He wooed the goddess Exultation,
Of weird Buddhistic fame.
Their son was High Jinks, a sensation
Who, ere he caught his breath,
Soon died of chronic cachinnation,
Just laughed himself to death.
His soul became this wondrous flow’r,
Who breathes it, feels its mystic pow’r:
Friml, Rudolf and Hauerbach, Otto, "Something Seems Tingle-Ingleing" (1913). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1284.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.