In the Alleyways of Peking and the streets of old Shanghai,
The restaurants do good business and the Rickshaws rattle by,
The Oriental Wombles fill the Chinese litter bins0
With nuts and bolts and boiling rice and old chop suey tins.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall...
From the Yangtse Kyang Basin to the Shantung Mountain Hills
They exercise their Oriental litter-picking skills.
There's an ancient Womble Proverb which they sing to the Yellow Seas;
"He who cleans the countryside deserves to be Chinese."
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall...
All the harbour lights are shining and the band begins to play
The chopsticks hit the drums so hard that you jump out of the way,
Chinatown is moving to the Koto and the flute, And the sound of Shanghai Wombles eating crunchy bamboo shoots.
The restaurants do good business and the Rickshaws rattle by,
The Oriental Wombles fill the Chinese litter bins0
With nuts and bolts and boiling rice and old chop suey tins.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall...
From the Yangtse Kyang Basin to the Shantung Mountain Hills
They exercise their Oriental litter-picking skills.
There's an ancient Womble Proverb which they sing to the Yellow Seas;
"He who cleans the countryside deserves to be Chinese."
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall.
You're invited to the Ping-Pong Ball
In the Chinese Wombling Ping-Pong-Ball Hall...
All the harbour lights are shining and the band begins to play
The chopsticks hit the drums so hard that you jump out of the way,
Chinatown is moving to the Koto and the flute, And the sound of Shanghai Wombles eating crunchy bamboo shoots.