All year, we've been preparing for this moment.
The grueling practices,
The difficult performances,
The friendships formed.
This is our time to shine.

We keep to ourselves in straight lines,
Our movements in perfect unison.

As we arrive at the place of our final competition,
We notice the roar of the crowd,
The brilliance of the lights,
The sheer amount of energy.
This is our time to shine.

At the command of our leaders,
We reach an abrupt halt.

Silently we stand in our places,
Until, from the front of the pack,
A whisper travels,
A phrase passes,
Hope filters through the ranks.
This is our time to shine.

A sudden hush comes upon us
As a single arm is thrust into the air.

Soon everyone's fists are raised
In an overwhelming show of support.
“The black is back,
the black is back,
the black is back!”
Soon the hush becomes a roar.
This is our time to shine.

“Nampa High School Marching Band,
You may now take the field in competition.”

At the announcer's words,
The cadence sounds and we begin.
Our energy is focused,
The crowd becomes a blur,
And we leave it all on the field.
This is our time to shine.