Devil Went Down To Band Camp
Devil went down to band camp, he was looking for a soul to steal.
He was in a bind cuz he was way behind and he was willing to make a deal,
when he came across this drum major leading a band. They were playing it hot
and the Devil jumped up on the podium and said, "Girl, let me tell you what.
I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a hard-core band geek too
and if you'd care to take a dare I'll make a bet with you.
Now you play a pretty good Bernstein, but give the Devil his due.
I bet a trophy of gold against your soul as to think I'm better than you."
The drum major said, "We're the Sir Bills and it might be a sin,
but we'll take your bet. You're gonna regret cuz we're the best that's ever been."
Sir Bills, gotta march your drill and play your Bernstein hard,
cuz Hell's broke loose in Johnstown and the Devil deals the cards.
And if you win, you get this shiny trophy made of gold,
but if you lose, the Devil gets your souls.
The Devil opened up his case and said, "I'll start this show,"
and fire flew from his clarinet as he began to blow.
He marched right straight out on the field and he played an evil hiss.
Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this.
(The Marcus Whitman Wildcats play one of their stupid, tasteless, and uncreative rip-off shows.)
When the Devil finished, the drum major said, "Well, you're pretty good, old son.
But sit down in those stands down there and let us show you how it's done!"
Mark time four, let's start the fun.
Miles from your drill spot, run, guard, run!
Tubas on the fifty, picking out notes.
Hit that impact, go, band, go!
The Devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat
and he laid that golden trophy on the ground at the Sir Bills' feet.
The drum major said, "Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again,
cuz I told you once, you son of a bitch, we're the best that's ever been."
Mark time four, let's start the fun.
Miles from your drill spot, run, guard, run!
Tubas on the fifty, picking out notes.
Hit that impact, go, band, go!
Devil went down to band camp, he was looking for a soul to steal.
He was in a bind cuz he was way behind and he was willing to make a deal,
when he came across this drum major leading a band. They were playing it hot
and the Devil jumped up on the podium and said, "Girl, let me tell you what.
I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a hard-core band geek too
and if you'd care to take a dare I'll make a bet with you.
Now you play a pretty good Bernstein, but give the Devil his due.
I bet a trophy of gold against your soul as to think I'm better than you."
The drum major said, "We're the Sir Bills and it might be a sin,
but we'll take your bet. You're gonna regret cuz we're the best that's ever been."
Sir Bills, gotta march your drill and play your Bernstein hard,
cuz Hell's broke loose in Johnstown and the Devil deals the cards.
And if you win, you get this shiny trophy made of gold,
but if you lose, the Devil gets your souls.
The Devil opened up his case and said, "I'll start this show,"
and fire flew from his clarinet as he began to blow.
He marched right straight out on the field and he played an evil hiss.
Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this.
(The Marcus Whitman Wildcats play one of their stupid, tasteless, and uncreative rip-off shows.)
When the Devil finished, the drum major said, "Well, you're pretty good, old son.
But sit down in those stands down there and let us show you how it's done!"
Mark time four, let's start the fun.
Miles from your drill spot, run, guard, run!
Tubas on the fifty, picking out notes.
Hit that impact, go, band, go!
The Devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat
and he laid that golden trophy on the ground at the Sir Bills' feet.
The drum major said, "Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again,
cuz I told you once, you son of a bitch, we're the best that's ever been."
Mark time four, let's start the fun.
Miles from your drill spot, run, guard, run!
Tubas on the fifty, picking out notes.
Hit that impact, go, band, go!