Jingahling! jingahling!
When er sotin’ lone,
Yo’ kin call yo’ honey—
Go to courtin’ o’ de phone.
Drives erway de shaddahs,
Makes yo’ quit yo’ fret an’ stew,
Fills yo’ soul wid sunshine,
Opens up yo’ hea’t ernew.
Jingahling! jingahling!
Dis yo’, Liza Jane?
“Yes, dis am yo’ honey,”
Cums de sweet an’ sof’en ’frain.
Den yo’ go to pohin’
In her ear de words o’ love:
Tickles her to def,
An’ makes her think she am er dove.
Jingahling! jingahling!
When yo’ hyeah her say:
“Honey, when yo’ gone it’s
Allus night an’ nebbah day,”
’Pears dat while dey’s fallin’
In yo’ ear, dat lovin’ tone,
Yo’ kin see yo’ honey
Standin’ dah befo’ de phone.
Jingahling! jingahling!
Sweetah grows de tone.
Makes er niggah neerly
Ram his head clah th’ew de phone.
Kaze dem sugah wurds
Dey sho’ly make yo’ hea’t inspah—
’Lecktrifies yo’ spirit,
Sots yo’ whol’ soul all er fiah!
Jingahling! jingahling!
When de day is dun,
You no mo’ kin see de
Blazin’, dazzlin’, sinkin’ sun,
How yo’ lub to ’membah
’Bout yo’ courtin’ o’ de phone,
Ez yo’ muse an’ pondah
In yo’ cabin all er lone!
