Eyes open. Chest out. Back straight. Shoulders back.
Closed mouth, open mind. Now be ready for attack.
All the words flow through my mind.
So distracting, I’m so behind!
Out of tune, out of time,
One more practice? Just one more time?
Is this really what they see?
Just simply me, unfortunate me?
I think I can and so I try,
But I’m so bad, I might just cry!
This marching band is not my thing.
The perfect posture marching thing.
The clarinet, I can play.
I’ll play that music any day.
But the perfect marching is just not me.
It’s pretty sad, can’t you see?
It could be better, of this I’m sure.
Maybe I’ll try it, just once more.
Practice makes perfect; just wait, you’ll see.
What a fabulous marcher I can be.
Marching band is not that hard,
Just another trial, another card.
What beautiful images we can make
While we’re marching, not one mistake.
The amazing music that we play
Can win the crowds any day.
The sport that once defeated my sole
Is now my happiness, has made me whole.