(jule styne/bob merrill)
Wa wa wa?
Is that all you can say?
The lady ain’t been born
Can’t take the place of a horn
With the cornet man
I’ll 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
He’ll hop the choo-choo on the moon
It’s noticed to play somedays with billy bates
A ragtime oldies
The lady ain’t see light
Can’t 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 I’m over against
A devil that’s worse
Yeah, a horn is my thorn
He’s the traveling cornet man
He’s gotta go
Up on the road
He’s got some dates
That millie hates
He leaves his notice
On ragtime oldies
He’s gotta go
Back on the road
The lady ain’t see light
Can’t 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 I’m over against
A devil that’s worse
Yeah, a horn is my thorn
He’s the traveling cornet man
Say it again!
Upon the blue north folks suit
A silver plated wow, wow mute
He’s shy on height
He’s short on weight
But he’s the only man
Can make my coffee percolate
I never dare
My cornet player man...
S Artists/Bands 
Supremes CDs in sales 
