The silent chant among the field

Counting the measures until you move

Slowly you raise your instrument

Your feet move at the tempo

Into place you go, feet keeping time

Notes easily going towards the restless crowd

Drum majors continue to stand,

The Band remains tall with pride

The next piece begins without fear

Notes come out strong,

Your feet moving easily to your next dot

Again you’re in place, but only for a moment

To the next dot you go,

The crowd going wild at your formation

As the song ends, immediately the last starts

The beginning is slow

The measures taking their sweet time

The melody plays softly

While harmony plays even softer

As the melody backs off,

The percussion takes their stand,

Livening up the band’s attitude

As the song comes to a great ending

Your feet come to a stop,

Head held up in pride

The drum majors’ hands move

Instruments’ go down simultaneously

The whistle blows to leave the field

The snare taps the drum four times

You consolidate with the band

As one you march off the field

The percussion starts a cadence

The crowd cheers as you march back to your stands

Your head held up, full of pride


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