Rock Island lyrics

Rock Island lyrics

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Rock Island lyrics

Send "Rock Island" Ringtone to your Cell Cash for the merchandise Cash for the buttonhooks Cash for the cotton goods Cash for the hard goods Cash for the fancy goods Cash for the soft goods Cash for the noggins And the pickins And the frickins Cash for the hogshead cask And demijohn Cash for the crackers And the pickles And the flypaper Look, whaddaya talk Whaddaya talk, whaddaya talk Whaddaya talk, whaddaya talk Where do you get it? Whaddaya talk? You can talk, you can talk You can bicker, you can talk You can bicker, bicker, bicker You can talk, you can talk You can talk, talk, talk, talk, Bicker, bicker, bicker You can talk all you want But it`s different then it was No it ain`t, no it ain`t But you gotta know the territory Shh shh shh shh shh shh shh Why it`s the Model T Ford Made the trouble Made the people wanna go Wanna get, wanna get Wanna get up and go Seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, Fourteen, twenty-two, Twenty-three miles To the county seat Yes sir, yes sir Who`s gonna patronize A little bitty two by four Kinda store anymore? Whaddaya talk, whaddaya talk, Where do you get it? Gone, gone, gone With the hogshead cask And demijohn Gone with the sugar barrel Pickle barrel, milk pan Gone with the tub And the pail and the tears Ever meet a fellow By the name of Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill? Hill! NO! Just a minute Just a minute Just a minute Never heard of any salesman Hill Now he doesn`t know the territory Doesn`t know the territory?!? What`s the fellow`s line? Never worries `bout his line Never worries `bout his line?!? Or a doggone thing He`s just a bang beat, bell ringing, Big hole, great go, neck-or-nothing Rip roarin`, every time a bull`s eye Salesman. That`s Professor Harold Hill Harold Hill What`s the fellow`s line? What`s his line? He`s a fake And he doesn`t know the territory! Look, whaddaya talk, whaddaya talk, Whaddaya talk, Whaddaya talk? He`s a music man He`s a what? He`s a what? He`s a music man And he sells clarinets To the kids in the town With the big trombones And the rat-a-tat drums Big brass bass Big brass bass And the piccolo, the piccolo With uniforms, too With a shiny gold braid On the coat And a big red stripe runnin` Well, I don`t know much About bands But I do know You can`t make a living Selling big trombones, no sir. Mandolin picks, perhaps And here and there a Jew`s harp No, the fellow sells bands Boys` bands. I don`t know how he does it But he lives like a king And he dallies And he gathers And he plucks And he shines And when the man dances Certainly, boys What else? The piper pays him! Yes sir, yes sir Yes sir, yes sir When the man dances Certainly, boys What else? The piper pays him! Yessssir, Yessssir But he doesn`t know the territory Send " Rock Island" Ringtone to your Cell Rock Island lyrics @ Burbler Lyrics | Rock Island lyrics @ ELyrics | Rock Island lyrics @ Kovideo | Lyrics and Video @ MusicBabylon | Rock Island lyrics @ Songlyrics | Rock Island lyrics @ ELyricsWorld

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