Rock Island Lyrics - Singles - Music Man

SALES MAN 1: 

Cash for the merchandise. 

Cash for the buttonhooks. 

SALES MAN 2: 

Cash for the cotton goods. 

Cash for the hard goods. 

SALES MAN 1: 

Cash for the soft goods 

Cash for the fancy goods. 

SALES MAN 2: 

Cash for the noggins, and the piggins, and the firkins. 

SALES MAN 3: 

Cash for the hogshead, cask and demijohn. 

Cash for the crackers, and the pickles, and the flypaper. 

SALES MAN 4: 

Look, what do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

SALES MAN 5: 

Where do you get it? 

SALES MAN 4: 

What do you talk? 

SALES MAN 2: 

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 wanna, but it's different than it was. 

CHARLIE: 

No it ain't, no it ain't, but you gotta know the territory! 

SALES MAN 3: 

Chi Chi Chi Chi Chi Chi Chi 

Well, it's the Model T Ford made the trouble, 

Made the people wanna go, wanna get, wanna get, wanna get up and go. 

7,8,9,10,12,14, 22, 23 miles to the county seat. 

SALES MAN 1: 

Yes, sir, yes, sir! 

SALES MAN 3: 

Who's gonna patronize a little 2 by 4 kind of store anymore? 

SALES MAN 4: 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

NEWSPAPER READER 1: 

Where do you get it? 

CHARLIE: 

It's not the Model T at all, 

Take a gander at the store, 

At the modern store, 

At the present day store 

At the present day, modern, 

Departmentalized grocery store. 

SALES MAN 4: 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

NEWSPAPER READER 1: 

Where do you get it? 

SALES MAN 4: 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

What do you talk? 

NEWSPAPER READER 1: 

Where do you get it? 

SALES MAN 1: 

You can talk, you can bicker. 

You can talk, you can bicker. 

You can talk, talk, talk, talk 

You can bicker, bicker, bicker. 

You can talk all you wanna, 

But it's different than it was. 

CHARLIE: 

No, it ain't, but you gotta know the territory. 

SALES MAN 3: 

Why, it's the U-needa biscuit 

Made the trouble 

U-needa, U-needa, 

Put the crackers in a package, in a package, 

The U-needa biscuit 

In an air-tight sanitary package 

Made the cracker barrel obsolete, obsolete 

CHARLIE: 

Obsolete, obsolete, obsolete 

SALESMAN 4: 

Cracker barrel went out the window 

with the Mail Pouch cut plug chawin' by the stove 

Changed the approach of a travelin' salesman 

Made it pretty hard. 

CHARLIE: 

No it didn't, 

but ya gotta know the territory. 

SALES MAN 3: 

Gone, Gone 

SALES MAN 1: 

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 till. 

SALES MAN 5: 

Ever meet a fellow by the name of Hill? 

SALES MAN 1: 

Hill? 

CHARLIE: 

Hill! 

SALESMAN 3: 

Hill? 

SALES MAN 4: 

Hill? 

NEWSPAPER READER 1: 

Hill? 

NEWSPAPER READER 2: 

Hill? 

NEWSPAPER READER 3: 

Hill? 

SALES MAN 5: 

Hill! 

ALL: 

No! 

CHARLIE: 

Just a minute, just a minute, just a minute 

SALES MAN 4: 

Never heard of any salesman Hill. 

SALES MAN 5: 

Now he doesn't know the territory. 

SALES MAN 1: 

Doesn't know the territory? 

SALES MAN 3: 

What's the fellow's line? 

SALES MAN 5: 

Never worries 'bout his line. 

SALES MAN 1: 

Never worries 'bout his line? 

SALES MAN 5: 

Or a doggone thing. He's just a bang-beat, bell-ringing, big-haul, great-go, neck-or-nothing, rip-roarin', every-time-a bull's-eye salesman. That's Professor Harold Hill, Harold Hill. 

SALES MAN 5: 

Tell us, what's his line? 

What's his line? 

CHARLIE: 

He's a fake and he doesn't know the territory. 

SALES MAN 4: 

Look, what do ya talk? 

What do ya talk? 

What do ya talk? 

What do ya talk? 

SALES MAN 5: 

He's a music man. 

SALES MAN 3: 

He's a what? 

He's a what? 

SALES MAN 5: 

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. The uniforms too, with a shiny gold braid on the 

coat and a big red stripe runnin' down... 

SALES MAN 1: 

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... 

SALES MAN 5: 

No, the fellow sells bands, boy's 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 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! 

ALL: 

Yes sir, Yes sir 

CHARLIE: 

But he doesn't know the territory!