Through Arizona, Michigan, Tennessee we go,
The band cling clongs and ring a ding-dongs all nice and low,
Ain't this a jammin' band?
The trumpet toots,
Look, here comes the flute.
Ain't this a jammin' band?
The 88s boink,
The guitar strums,
Ain't this a jammin' band?
Now the carinet solos,
So does the sax,
Ain't this a jammin' band?
And after a while, 9:00 p.m. the time,
The music stops right on a dime.
Hey, where is the jammin' band?

back to Youth Poetry index