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Marching Season Weekend
Three months we have practiced our show every day after school 'til the sky
has grown dark.
This weekend we have two contests and "The Game!" perfect chances to go make our
mark.
The timing is tight,
But it will be all right,
If we keep to our schedule bold.
We'll march right along,
For we're young and we're strong,
Concert Season's for sleeping we're told.
So its:
Friday night, Time is tight,
Out we go, Drill the show,
We've got pluck, Load the truck,
Uniforms, Get our horns,
Hurry us, On the bus,
Check our names, Ride to game,
Off the bus, What a fuss,
Unload truck, Don't get stuck,
Here it comes, Bang the drums,
Into stands, Climbs the band,
Stand and play, Blast away,
Half-time's here, Hear them cheer,
On the ground, March around,
Bang and blow, What a show,
Give a hand, To our band,
Back in stands, Warm our hands,
Stand and play, Blast away,
Game is done, Someone won,
Play school song, Get along,
Reload all, Take roll call,
Get back late, What a Fate,
At the school, Chaos rules,
Off the Bus, What a Fuss,
Unload truck, Don't get stuck,
Put away, End long day,
Phone for ride, Wait outside,
Sleepy head, Home to bed:
Rest, two, three, four.
Six hours (almost) of sleep quickly pass by then its back to the Band Hall
once more.
The big marching contest today will decide if we've achieved what we're working
for.
The site's far away,
We will ride half the day,
In a hot noisy bumpy school bus.
This time we can't waste,
We'll do homework in haste,
If we don't they'll disqualify us.
And its:
Saturday, Ride away,
Sleepy head, Out of bed,
Out we go, Drill the show,
We've got pluck, Load the truck,
Uniforms, Get our horns,
Hurry us, On the bus,
Check it all, Take roll call,
Sing a song, Ride along,
Unload truck, Wish us luck,
Get in line, Almost time,
Now we learn, Its our turn,
On the ground, March around,
Bang and blow, What a show,
Give a hand, To our band,
Wait's a bore, Learn our score,
Reload all, Take roll call,
Long ride back, Eat a snack,
Get back late, What a fate,
At the school, Chaos rules,
Off the Bus, What a Fuss,
Unload truck, Don't get stuck,
Put away, What a day!
Phone for ride, Wait outside,
Sleepy head, Home to bed:
Rest, two, three, four.
The State Marching Contest on Monday is held over three hundred miles to the
west.
Five hours (not quite) of sleep can we squeeze in, then be in the Band Hall
packed and dressed.
We'll ride on all day,
To some hotel they say,
Is not bad for the price which is cheap.
And then as a treat,
We'll have something to eat,
Before some of us try for some sleep.
And its:
Sunday Morn, Lame and worn,
Sleepy head, Out of bed,
Pack your bag, Please don't lag,
Out we go, Drill the show,
We've got pluck, Load the truck,
Uniforms, Get our horns,
Hurry us, On the bus,
Check it all, Take roll call,
Sing a song, Ride along,
There at last, Unload fast,
Off the bus, What a fuss,
Restaurant's slow, Back we go,
Sleepy head, Hotel bed:
Rest, two, three, four.
Band chaperones wake us up at six fifteen to be packed and in buses by eight,
At Shoney's we breakfast in shifts quick-march fast since we can not afford to
be late.
State Contest is grand,
Quite the best in the land,
On the State University's field!
But its long and its slow,
After we march our show,
Wait six hours 'til scores are revealed.
And its
Monday Morn, Lame and worn,
Sleepy head, Out of bed,
Pack your bag, Please don't lag,
Hurry us, On the bus,
Check it all, Take roll call,
Breakfast fast, Don't be last,
Unload truck, Wish us luck,
Uniforms, Get our horns,
Out we go, Drill the show,
Get in line, Almost time,
Now we learn, Its our turn,
On the ground, March around,
Bang and blow, What a show,
Give a hand, To our band,
Wait's a bore, Learn our score,
Reload all, Take roll call,
Sing a song, Ride along,
Long ride back, Eat a snack,
Get back late, What a fate:
Ride, two, three, four.
At two thirty-seven A.M. we get back to our Band Hall how strange does it
seem,
All quiet and dark in the mists of the night just like something right out of a
dream.
Back in the Band Hall,
We all line up to call,
For our parents to come get us quick.
We're young and we're strong,
But this weekend was long.
And we think we're about to be sick.
And its:
Monday night, That's not right,
Tuesday morn, Lame and worn,
Back to school, Chaos rules,
Off the Bus, What a Fuss,
Unload truck, Don't get stuck,
Put away, End long day,
Phone for ride, Wait outside,
Sleepy head, Home to bed:
Rest, two, three, four.
Just six hours later we're back at the school in our regular classes today,
Though barely awake, quite worn out, somewhat stiff, still we're happy you see
anyway.
Some teachers complain,
That it just seems insane,
That we've taken so much time from school.
But we do not care,
Band did quite well up there,
We'll make up what we missed as a rule.
And its:
Tuesday Morn, Lame and worn,
Sleepy head, Out of bed,
Limp to school, Its the rule,
Weekend's gone, We move on,
It seems odd, Doze and nod,
At last three! Oh yippee!
Sleepy head, Early bed:
Rest, two, three, four,
Rest.., two.., three.., four..,
Rest..., two..., three..., four...,
Rest!
Copyright 1996 by George Yenetchi
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