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Meredith Willson
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The Music Man: Seventy-Six Trombones
Please folks, please folks. May I have your attention please? Attention please? I can deal with this trouble, friends, with a wave of my hand This very hand Please observe me if you will I'm Professor Harold Hill And I'm here to organize a River City Boys Band Oh think my friends, how could any pool table ever hope to compete with a gold trombone? Ra-da-ra-da-da-da-da-ra-da Remember my friends what a handful of trumpet players did to the famous fabled walls of Jericho? Oh billiard parlor walls come a'tumbling down Oh a band will do it my friends, I mean a boys band, yes indeed I say River City's gotta have a boys band and I mean she needs it today But Professor Harold Hill's on hand And River City's gonna have a boys band As sure as the Lord made little green apples And that band's gonna be in uniform Johnny, Willie, Teddy, Fred And you'll see the glitter of crashing cymbols And you'll hear the thunder of roaring drums The shimmer of trumpets Ta-ta-da! And you feel something akin to the electric thrill I enjoyed when Gilmour, Liberate, Pat Conway, the Great Creator, W.C. Handy, and John Philip Sousa all came to town on the very same historic day. Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Seventy-six trombones led the big parade With a hundred and ten coronets close at hand They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuosos The cream of every famous band Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun With a hundred and ten coronets right behind There were more than a thousand reeds springing up like weeds There were horns of every shape and kind There were copper-bottom timpanies and horse platoons Thundering, thundering all along the way Double-bell euphoniums and big bassoons Each bassoon having his big fat say There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery Thundering, thundering louder than before Clarinets of every size and trumpeters who'd improvise a whole octave higher than the score Seventy-six trombones hit the counterpoint While a hundred and ten coronets blazed away To the rhythm of harch, harch, harch all the kids began to march And they're marching still right today They're marching still right today Harold Hill!
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