Vikings at our best, what can I say. I'm trying to make cracks at various groups, since I'm a band and guard child (flutes and flags, wheee). R&R, please.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marching
Words by Phoenix, to the tune of Crawling
Marching in the mud
My toes, I cannot feel
Rain is falling hard
We cannot see the field
She keeps on moving one set over to the right
Annoying/ Destroying
This careful arc which Mr. Hejny spent his time on
Creating/ Why we can't seem
To traverse our facings in
Mr. Musser says again
[Competition's days away and I'm convinced
that there's just too much stuff to fix]
We've all been there before
Marching eight-to-four
Marching in the sun
The flutes can't seem to deal
With all the cracks about
That stupid 'Band Camp' speal
Discomfort casually has sneaked into our ankles
Distracting/ Reacting
With our sore shoulders as we all stand at attention
They're hurting/ And we can't seem
To turn our heads and spin
Our flags are closing in
[Jazz run left and right, then shimmy, toss,
run back and pick up the rifles]
We've all been there before
Practice starts at four
Marching in the grass
No, the plumes aren't real
Fear is how we learn
The Mummy with renewed zeal
Marching on the field
Competition is already here
And that's how band will start
Consuming, consuming all that's real
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
