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 wy.
 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