As recorded in London, September 20, 1932
In Tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire
To take their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules the greatest fools obey,
Because the Sun is far too sultry and one must avoid its ultry-violet ray.
The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts
Because they're obviously definitely nuts!
Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun,
The Japanese don't care to,
The Chinese wouldn't dare to.
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve till one,
But Englishmen detest a siesta.
In the Philipines
They have lovely screens
To protect you from the glare.
In the Malay States
There are hats like plates
Which the Britishers won't wear.
At twelve noon the natives swoon and no further work is done,
But mad dogs and Englismen go out in the midday sun.
It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see
That though the English are effete,
They're quite impervious to heat.
When the White Man rides every native hides in glee
Because the simple creatures hope he
Will impale his solar topee on a tree.
It seems such a shame
when the English claim
the Earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho
He-he-he-he-he-he-he
Hm-hm-hm-hm-hm
Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The toughest Burmese bandit
Can never understand it.
In Rangoon the heat of noon
Is just what the natives shun,
They put their Scotch or Rye down
And lie down.
In a jungle town
Where the Sun beats down
To the rage of man and beast
The English garb
Of the English sahib
Merely gets a bit more creased.
In Bangkok
At twelve o'clock
They foam at the mouth and run,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
Mad dogs and Englshmen go out in the midday sun.
The smallest Malay rabbit
Deplores this foolish habit.
In Hong Kong
They strike a gong
And fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand each inmate
Who's in late.
In the mangorve swamps
Where the python romps
There is peace from twelve till two.
Even caribous
Lie around and snooze,
For there's nothing else to do.
In Bengal
To move at all
Is seldom if ever done,
But mad dogs and Englishmen go—
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday,
Out in the midday sun.
As recorded at Las Vegas in June, 1955
In tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire
To tear their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules the greatest fools obey,
Because the Sun is far too sultry
And one must avoid its ultry-violet ray
Papkalaka-papalaka-papalaka-boo
(That's natives)
Digariga-digariga-digariga-do
The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts,
Because they're obviously, definitely, nuts!
Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun
The Japanese don't care to,
The Chinese wouldn't dare to
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve till one
But Englishmen detest a siesta.
In the Philippines
They have lovely screens
To protect you from the glare
In the Malay States
There are hats like plates
Which the Britishers won't wear
At twelve noon
The natives swoon
And no further work is done.
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun.
It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see
That though the English are effete,
They're quite impervious to heat
When the White Man rides, every native hides in glee,
Because the simple creatures hope he
Will impale his solar topee on a tree
Habanini-habanini-habanini-hah
(Same natives, pay no attention)
Digariga-digariga-digariga-dah
It seems such a shame when the English claim the Earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
(Oh, dear.)
Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun
The smallest Malay rabbit deplores this foolish habit
In Hong Kong they strike a gong and fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand each inmate, who's in late
In a jungle town
Where the Sun beats down
To the rage of man and beast
The English garb
Of the English Sahib
Merely gets a bit more creased
In Bangkok
At twelve o'clock
They foam at the mouth and run
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun
Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun
The toughest Burmese bandit
Can never understand it
In Rangoon the heat of noon is just what the natives shun
They put their Scotch or Rye down and lie down
In the mangrove swamps
Where the python romps
There is peace from twelve till two
Even caribous
Lie around and snooze
For there's nothing else to do
In Bengal
To move at all
Is seldom if ever done
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday
Out in the midday sun