We feel the golden rays of sun beating down on our faces,
As we look towards our leader while our own heart races.
Our feet hit the ground at the sound of the beat,
Arms, legs, and backs ache from the feel of the heat.
Standing still as a statue, we wait for the command to move,
As we hold our fire-hot instruments while playing the tune of a groove.
The pressure to be perfect slowly fading away,
As we see the swaying motion and smiling faces from the day.
The ending is drawing near as our adrenaline starts racing,
Our marching becomes faster as we are continually playing.
A deep breath is taken as bodies stand like rocks,
The last notes ringing like the chiming of clocks.
The crowd stand and applauds us as we march off the field,
Our duty is completed and our fate has been sealed.
Standing with anticipation, we receive the judge's score,
Superior rating is what is awarded so our show must have been adored.
We wait to hear our name announced as band of the night,
But our wish is not granted even though we put up quite a fight.
We still walk through the gate with our heads held high,
And we smile when we think that we have another year to try.