This work was inspired by my friend Elise and her evil lyre that kept
falling off. Thanks be to marching band for this ridiculous idea, and thanks be to Elise for inspiring it. Thanks also to Elise for helping me
work out some of the kinks.

The Band has changed.
I hear it in the sound.
I feel it in the music.
I smell it in the valve oil.
Much of the emotion it once possessed is now lost,
For none now remain who can play so well...

It began with the forging of the Great Lyres.

Three were given to the Flutes and Clarinets,
Fairest, but most annoying, of all Band Members.

Seven, to the Tenor Saxophones,
Great oddities and masters of range...

And nine,
Nine Lyres were gifted to the Trumpets,
Who, above all else,
Desire power...

For within these Lyres was bound the strength and the will to govern each
section...

But they were, all of them, deceived,
For another Lyre was made...

In the Press Box, above the Football Field,
The Dark Band Director, Mr. R, forged, in secret, a master Lyre, And into this Lyre, he poured his knowledge of drill sets, roll stepping,
and his will to make all Bands march;
Once Lyre to Rule Them All!

One by one, the members of the Concert Band fell to the power of the One
Lyre...

But there were some who resisted...

A last alliance of Brass and Woodwinds threw rocks at the Percussionists of
the Football Field, And on the steps of the Press Box, they fought for the freedom of the Band.
Victory was near,
But the power of the Lyre could not be undone...

It was in this moment,
When all hope had faded, that Ivan,
The second chair Trumpet,
Took up his brother's Horn...

The Band Director, the enemy of the Concert Band members,
Was defeated...

The One Lyre passed to Ivan,
Who had this one chance
To destroy it forever...

But the hearts of trumpets
Are easily corrupted,
And the Lyre of Power has a will of its own...

It betrayed Ivan
To last chair his senior year...

Some music that should not have been forgotten was lost.
C's became B naturals.
B naturals became B flats,
And for two and a half school years,
The Lyre passed out of all knowledge,
Until, by chance, it ensnared a new bearer...

The Lyre came to the freshman French Horn Gerald,
Who took it deep into the darkness of the Instrument Room,
And there,
It consumed him.

The Lyre brought to Gerald an unnaturally high range, and he took to playing
mellophone.
Until his junior year, it poisoned his mind.
And in the gloom of his instrument case, it waited...

Darkness crept back into the Band Room,
Rumor grew of a Shadow on the Football Field,
Whispers of a nameless fear.
And the Lyre of Power perceived;
Its time had now come.

It abandoned Gerald,
But something happened the Lyre did not intend.
It was picked up by the most unlikely person imaginable:
Bryce, a freshman French Horn.

For the time will come
When French Horns
will shape the fortunes of us all...