Jack Spratt could play no jazz
his wife could play no blues,
so between them both they formed a duo
and cleaned up playing schmooz.

Oh this grand old Dukoff's coarse,
it squawks just like a hen,
I've played it up to the top of the horn
and I've played it down again.
And when it is flat it is flat,
and when it is sharp it is sharp,
and when it is neither sharp or flat
I still sound like a clown.

You tak' the high note and I'll tak' the low,
and I'll be in subtone afore ye -
but me and my true love will never meet again
'cos some bugger nicked my horn from the bandroom.

Yankee Doodle did a gig
on his slide tromboney,
couldn't play a bleedin' note,
turns out he is a phoney.

Half a bar repeated twice,
half a bar of three-four.
That's the way the melody goes,
Pop! goes the reader.

Little Miss Muffet
didn't half fluff it
whenever she sat down to play.
The guy sat beside her
couldn't abide her
and blew poor Miss Muffet away.

Ring-a-ring a-rider
a bandroom full of cider.
Six pints, seven pints,
we all fall down.

Old Freddie Hubbard went to the cupboard
to get his poor trumpet a mute.
When he got there, the cupboard was bare,
so he used an old sock and a boot.

One, two, three four five,
I can't play this 5/4 jive.
Six, seven, eight nine ten
I won't play this tune again.
I'll have to let it go
because it hurts my fingers so.
I think it's bloody shite
I'll give it the finger on my right.

Sing a song of six bars, turn the amps up high
four and twenty kilowatts, makes you wanna cry.
When the venue opened the band began to sing,
oh isn't this a lousy gig, can't hear a bloody thing.

Eeny meeny miny mo
pick a dep and hear him blow.
If he fluffs it, let him go
eeny meeny miny mo.

Blah blah, crib sheet,
hate to play this drool.
Yes sir, yes sir,
we know "Daddy Cool".
No tune a blaster,
every song is lame,
I wish I'd got a proper job
I'm fed up of this game.

Jack and Jill went up the bill
faster than they oughta.
Jack played down and lost his crown
and Jill came fumbling after.

Doctor Foster gigged in Gloucester
tried to play Coltrane,
he got in a muddle and fluffed up the middle
and never gigged there again.

One two, watching my cue
Three four, reading the score
Five six, I got my licks
Seven eight, came in too late

Twinkle twinkle Conn Crossbar
How I wonder where you are.
Sold on ebay, price so high,
bought it from some foreign guy.
Twinkle twinkle Conn Crossbar
How I wonder where you are.

Mary Mary, Conn Chu Berry
how does your hobby grow?
With silver bells and musty smells
and old horns all in a row.

There was an old pro called Michael Finnegan
he grew whiskers on his King again
it smelt so bad he didn't gig again
poor old Michael Finnegan, he's skint again.

Little Jack Horner stood in the corner
watching his cue to blow.
His solo has come
but he's played like a bum,
they won't book him again for this show.

This little alto's got mark on it,
this little tenor has none,
this little bari has no biffs
and this little bass has some,
and this little soprano went squeek squeek squeek
all the way home.