Abdul Abulbul Amir

The sons of the prophet are brave men and bold
And quite unaccustomed to fear
And the bravest and bold was a man, I am told
Called Abdul Abulbul Amir

Now heroes were plenty and well-known to fame
In the troops that were led by the Czar,
And the bravest of same was a man by the name
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skivar

He could imitate Irving, play poker and pool
And strum on a Spanish Guitar
In fact, quite the cream of the Muscovite team
Was Ivan Skavinsky Skivar

One day this bold Russian had shouldered his gun
And walked down the streets with a sneer
Downtown he did go, where he trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

"Young man," quote Abdul, "has your life grown so dull
That you wish to end your career?
Vile infidel! Know, you have trod on the toe of Abdul Abulbul Amir"

"So take your last look at the sunshine and brook
And send your regrets to the Czar
By this I imply you are going to die, count Ivan Skavinsky Skivar"

Said Ivan, "My friend, your remarks, in the end
Will avail you but little, I fear
For you ne'er will survive to repeat them alive
Mr. Abdul Abulbul Amir!"

They fought all that night, 'neath the moon shining bright
The battle was heard from afar
The police came in time to exchange the last line
Of Abdul and Skavinsky Skivar

Now a tomb rises up where the blue Danube flows
Engraved there in characters clear
"Ah, stranger, when passing, please pray for the soul
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir"

A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps
'Neath the light of the pale polar star
And the name that she murmurs as oft as she weeps
Is Ivan Skavinsky Skivar