I raise my horn the the stand, and scream at the people that sit and stare.
I hold back my breaths, and I try not to care
About the wind that fingers and tugs at my hair.

The crowds cheer and cry, and I hold my bell high,
as I step back one, two, three-four-five
We're running out of time.

I end the note, and bring the bell down,
My feet steady and balanced on the ground,
And suddenly, the field is void of sound.

People are quiet, for a moment, before they all begin to stand
And they all cheer for our large, amazing band
I halt my row with a wave of my hand.

We gather up, straight faced, and proud
I glance forward, to look for my folk amongst the crowd
But all I see is an ocean of strangers  to enshroud