As the snare clicks <br />My feet hit the ground <br />Steady with the beat <br />I can't look around <br /> <br />To see the large crowd <br />All eyes on us <br />With an adience this size <br />We better not mess up <br /> <br />The adrinaline's pumping <br />I'm ready to go <br />We stand at attention <br />waiting to start the show <br /> <br />The drummajor counts off <br />And the music starts <br />We sound just fine <br />The beat matches my hearts <br /> <br />I can smell the night air <br />And the freshcut grass on the field <br />The best smells in the world <br />To match the weopons we weild <br /> <br />Friday night lights <br />Go well with the band <br />As we finish up <br />The adience claps and then stands <br /> <br />Mark time mark <br />We march off to our seats <br />my uniform is uncomfortably tight <br />But I must say, our band is pretty sweet.<br /><br />Brie Carter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marching-band-5/
