Copyright, 1894, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Words and Music by John T. Kelly.
Have you heard of Casey's hand? the worst In all the land,
They look like freaks as they march out of time;
You should see them on the street-bow legs and crooked feet,
To hear them play I tell you is a crime.
Old Casey he's a "bute," in his regimental suit,
As proudly he marks time with his long stick;
When they play '" Daisy Bell," the air with discord swells-
To hear that band you'd laugh.
McEntire he plays the flute, Doyle's cornet goes root-te-toot,
Callahan he plays the drum-all the rest are very bum, in Casey's band.
Now the man that plays basoon looks like an old baboon,
When playing out of time he looks forlorn;
There's a man with rooms to let, plays a yaller clarinet-
The big trombone sounds like an old fish-horn.
Good music it has charms to soothe the savage breast,
That's why brass bands go 'round dons' necks, they say;
There's no dog in the land old Casey's band could standYou'll laugh to hear them play.-Chorus.