Correction Lyrics Rock Island (original) by Meredith Willson

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Lyrics

Cash for the merchandise, cash for the button hooks
Cash for the cotton goods, cash for the hard goods
Cash for the fancy goods, cash for the soft goods
Cash for the noggins and the piggins and the frikins
Cash for the hogshead, cask and demijohn. Cash for the crackers and the pickels and the flypaper
Look whatayatalk. whatayatalk, whatayatalk, whatayataalk, whatayatalk?
Wheredayagitit?
Whatayatalk?
Ya can talk, ya can talk, ya can bicker, ya can talk, ya can bicker, bicker, bicker, ya can talk, ya can talk, ya can talk, talk, talk, talk, bicker, bicker, bicker, ya can talk all ya wanna, but it's different then it was
No it ain't, no it ain't, but ya gotta know the territory
Chi, chi, chi, chi, chi, chi, chi
Why it's the Model T Ford made the trouble, made the people wanna go, wanna get, wanna get, wanna get up and go
Seven eight, nine, ten, twelve, fourteen, twenty-two, twenty-three miles to the county seat
Yes sir, yes sir
Who's gonna patronize a little bitty two by four kinda store anymore?
Whatayatalk, whatayatalk
Wheredayagetit?
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 groc'ry store
Whatayatalk. whatayatalk, whatayatalk, whatayataalk, whatayatalk
Wheredayagetit?
Whatayatalk. whatayatalk, whatayatalk
Wheredayagetit?
Ya can talk, ya can bicker, ya can talk, ya can bicker, ya can talk, talk, talk, talk, bicker, bicker, bicker, ya can talk all ya wanna, but it's different then it was
No it ain't, no it ain't, but ya gotta know the territory
Why, it's the Uneeda Biscuit made the trouble. Uneeda, Uneeda put the crackers in a package, in a package. The Uneeda Biscuit in an air-tight sanitary package made the cracker barrel obsolete, obsolete
Obsolete. Obsolete. Obsolete
Cracker barrel went out the window with the Mail Pouch cut plug chawin' by the stove, changed the approach of the travelin' salesman, made it pretty hard
No it didn't, no it didn't, but you gotta know the territory
Gone, gone
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 fierce
Ever meet a fellow by the name of Hill?
Hill?
Hill?!
Hill?
Hill?
Hill?
Hill?
Hill?
Hill?
NO!
Just a minute, just a minute, just a minute
Never heard of any salesman Hill
Now he doesn't know the territory
Doesn't know the territory?!?
Whats the fellows line?
Never worries 'bout his line
Never worries 'bout his line?!?
Or the crackle barrel bein, obsolete, or the Uneeda Biscuit in an air-tight sanitary package, or the Model T Ford
Just a minute, just a minute, just a minute!
Never worries 'bout his line
Never worries 'bout his line
Or a doggone thing. He's just a bang beat, bell ringing, Big haul, great go, neck or nothin', rip roarin', every time a bull's eye salesman. That's Professor Harold Hill, Harold Hill
Tell us what's his line, what's his line?
He's a fake, and he doesn't know the territory!
Look, whaddayatalk, whaddayatalk, whaddayatalk, whaddaystalk?
He's a music man
He's a what?
He's a what?
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 with uniforms, too with a shiny gold braid on the coat and a big red stripe runnin' . . 
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
No, the fellow sells bands, Boys 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!
Yessssir, Yessssir
But he doesn't know the territory!

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