See the palm trees wave in wild Brazil;
Take the moonlight with a whip-poor-will;
Have your little fling, my darling–still,
You belong to me.
Visit Persian markets in the street;
See the Arctic with its ice and sleet;
But remember, sweetheart, I repeat:
You belong to me.
I wonder how it is, now you’re free.
Maybe, though, you’re missing me–we’ll see.
Watch a Matador in Spain’s Madrid;
Travel rickshaw in a floppy lid;
But wherever, please remember, kid–
You belong to mel
by Ray Romine Friday, October 10, 1952