Seventy-six trombones led the big parade With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand. They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuo- Sos, the cream of ev'ry famous band. Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun With a hundred and ten cornets right behind There were more than a thousand reeds Springing up like weeds There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind. There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons Thundering, thundering all along the way. Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons, Each bassoon having it's big, fat say! There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery Thundering, thundering louder than before Clarinets of ev'ry size And trumpeters who'd improvise A full octave higher than the score!