(jule styne/bob merrill)

Wa wa wa?
Is that all you can say?

The lady aint been born
Cant take the place of a horn
With the cornet man
Ill go on with this blowing
Traveling cornet man

Just anytime they call him
He leaves his wife and kiddies
Sitting with their tongues out
To play for peanuts in some dive
And blow his lungs out

Hell hop the choo-choo on the moon
Its noticed to play somedays with billy bates
A ragtime oldies

The lady aint see light
Cant give a home a fair fight
With that cornet man
A rutting shooten
A never tooten dapadam

Who carries in his schedule
Upon the blue north folks suit
A silver plated wow, wow mute

There is drinking, gambling
Each one a curse
But Im over against
A devil thats worse
Yeah, a horn is my thorn
Hes the traveling cornet man

Hes gotta go
Up on the road
Hes got some dates
That millie hates

He leaves his notice
On ragtime oldies
Hes gotta go
Back on the road

The lady aint see light
Cant give a home a fair a fight
With that cornet man
A rutting shooten
A never tooten dapadam

Who carries in his schedule
Upon the blue north folks suit
Silver plated wow, wow mute

There is drinking, gambling
Each one is a curse
But Im over against
A devil thats worse
Yeah, a horn is my thorn
Hes the traveling cornet man

Say it again!
Upon the blue north folks suit
A silver plated wow, wow mute
Hes shy on height
Hes short on weight
But hes the only man
Can make my coffee percolate
I never dare
My cornet player man...