The sun bears down,
and burns our skin.
The leader who wears the crown
teaches us how to properly spin.
Sun block is of no value
The heat has us sweat it off,
and quaff down a gallon of water.
Now our jugs are empty.
It seems to get hotter
as the day goes on.
Commanded by our mater
we continue to march
with a staid look on our face.
The birds mock us from the tall larch
that is our only source of shade.
When it's time for a break
to the band room, we race.
Our whole body aches
but still we show up the next day;
ready with instruments to play.