On my native strip by the Trinidad sea,
On the topmost tip of a tamarind tree
Dwelt a voodoo god called Jim,
For a god how odd of him.
And on ev'nings dark when shadows grew thick,
He would always hark when a woebegone chick
Started singing through the dim
To the dee-i-tee in the tamarind tree called Jim,
To the odd little god known as Jim:
Voodoo, whisper low from above,
Voodoo, what's this myst'ry called love?
Voodoo, folks keep tellin' me of
Love's allure, love's delight,
June or January, noon or night.
Voodoo, if this love's all that they say,
Voodoo, for one favor I pray,
Voodoo, won't you send it my way?
Voodoo, do, do, do.
