Mandalay
Peter Bellamy Lyrics


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By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"

Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-Yaw-Lat—jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot.

Bloomin' idol made o' mud—
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd—
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was sinkin' low,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin' my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.

Elephints a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

But that's all shove be'ind me—long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."

No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?

Beefy face an' grubby 'and—
Law! wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be—
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;

On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,




Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Peter Bellamy's "Mandalay" tell the story of a British soldier who reminisces about his time in Myanmar (formerly known as Burma) and his love affair with a local woman named Supi-Yaw-Lat. The soldier longs to return to Mandalay, where the couple used to watch the steamers and the hathis piling teak, and where the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay. The soldier's vivid descriptions of his past experiences, from the smell of spicy garlic to the sound of the temple-bells, evoke a romanticized image of Myanmar that contrasts sharply with his current life in London, where he walks with fifty 'ousemaids and the English drizzle wakes the fever in his bones.


At its core, the song is about nostalgia and the power of memory. The soldier yearns to return to a time and place where he was happy and felt a sense of belonging. His love for Supi-Yaw-Lat and his attachment to Myanmar serve as a powerful reminder of the emotional connections that people can form with places and people. The song also raises questions about imperialism and the legacy of the British occupation of Myanmar. Despite the soldier's romanticized descriptions of his experiences in Mandalay, the reality is that the British presence in Myanmar was marked by violence, exploitation, and oppression.


Line by Line Meaning

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
At the Moulmein Pagoda, looking towards the sea to the east,


There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
I can imagine a Burmese girl sitting and thinking of me here,


For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
The wind in the palm trees is carried by the sound of temple bells calling out,


"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Asking me to come back to Mandalay as a British soldier,


Come you back to Mandalay,
Come back to Mandalay,


Where the old Flotilla lay:
Where the old flotilla used to lay,


Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
Can't you hear the sound of paddles from Rangoon to Mandalay?


On the road to Mandalay,
On the road leading to Mandalay,


Where the flyin'-fishes play,
Where the flying-fishes are found,


An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
And the dawn breaks with a loud sound from China across the Bay!


'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
Her petticoat was yellow and her cap was green,


An' 'er name was Supi-Yaw-Lat—jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
Her name was Supi-Yaw-Lat, the same as Theebaw's Queen,


An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
I first saw her smoking a big white cheroot,


An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot.
And wasting Christian kisses on a heathen idol's foot.


Bloomin' idol made o' mud—
A blooming idol made of mud,


Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd—
What they called the Great God Buddha,


Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
She didn't seem to care much for idols when I kissed her where she stood!


When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was sinkin' low,
When there was mist in the rice fields and the sun was setting low,


She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
She would take out her little banjo and sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"


With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin' my cheek
With her arm on my shoulder and her cheek against mine,


We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
We used to watch the steamers and the elephants piling up teak.


Elephints a-pilin' teak
Elephants piling teak,


In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
In the muddy creek,


Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
Where the silence was so heavy that you were afraid to speak!


But that's all shove be'ind me—long ago an' fur away,
But that's all behind me now, long ago and far away,


An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
And there are no buses running from the Bank to Mandalay;


An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
And now I'm learning here in London what the ten-year soldier told me:


"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
"If you've heard the East calling, you won't be interested in anything else."


No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
No, you won't need anything else


But them spicy garlic smells,
But the smell of spicy garlic


An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
And the sunshine, palm trees, and the sound of tinkly temple-bells;


On the road to Mandalay,
On the road leading to Mandalay,


Where the flyin'-fishes play,
Where the flying-fishes are found,


An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
And the dawn breaks with a loud sound from China across the Bay!


I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
I am tired of walking on these gritty pavement stones,


An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
And the blasted English drizzle is making my bones ache;


Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
Even though I walk with fifty housemaids from Chelsea to the Strand,


An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?
And they talk a lot about love, but what do they really know?


Beefy face an' grubby 'and—
With beefy faces and grubby hands—


Law! wot do they understand?
Oh, what do they really know?


I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
I have a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner and greener land!


On the road to Mandalay,
On the road leading to Mandalay,


Where the flyin'-fishes play,
Where the flying-fishes are found,


An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
And the dawn breaks with a loud sound from China across the Bay!


Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Send me somewhere east of Suez, where the best is no different from the worst,


Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
Where there are no Ten Commandments and a man can quench his thirst;


For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be—
Because the temple-bells are calling me there is where I want to be—


By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lazily looking towards the sea;


On the road to Mandalay,
On the road leading to Mandalay,


Where the old Flotilla lay,
Where the old flotilla used to lay,


With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
With our sick being sheltered by the awnings as we went to Mandalay!


On the road to Mandalay,
On the road leading to Mandalay,


Where the flyin'-fishes play,
Where the flying-fishes are found,


An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
And the dawn breaks with a loud sound from China across the Bay!




Contributed by Carson P. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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