1 A Little Band Poem by Theola(, the sophmore in training insane
clarinetist who's switching to the marching bass clarinet and who has
just been promoted to clarinet squad leader.)
B is for the bitchy flute, whose wrath is known to all. You'd love for her to take a hint, as well as two midol
A is for the aftertaste of a brand new reed. Though the taste is weaker than the smell of the trumpet player's weed
N is for narcotics which we all smoke in our bongs. Once we have a little puff we'll try to play the songs
D is for the drum major, who often is ignored. She's the butt of all the jokes we invent when we're bored
In the words of the impaired yet very percussionally talented CCHS drum line:
B-A-N-D! BAND! BAND! BAND!
(A/N: I wrote this on the dry erase board in the band room after a contest and almost got detention. Half the flutes are tentative about talking to me *especially the guy flute in whose year book I wrote "I'm glad you're not a flaming homosexual like we all thought at first" and my band director keeps looking at me like I need medical attention.)
B is for the bitchy flute, whose wrath is known to all. You'd love for her to take a hint, as well as two midol
A is for the aftertaste of a brand new reed. Though the taste is weaker than the smell of the trumpet player's weed
N is for narcotics which we all smoke in our bongs. Once we have a little puff we'll try to play the songs
D is for the drum major, who often is ignored. She's the butt of all the jokes we invent when we're bored
In the words of the impaired yet very percussionally talented CCHS drum line:
B-A-N-D! BAND! BAND! BAND!
(A/N: I wrote this on the dry erase board in the band room after a contest and almost got detention. Half the flutes are tentative about talking to me *especially the guy flute in whose year book I wrote "I'm glad you're not a flaming homosexual like we all thought at first" and my band director keeps looking at me like I need medical attention.)