Here we go a marching, marching, marching,
Every step a straight line,
heel and toe,
Pressing with precision ever
forward
To a destination no one
knows.
Pacing the parade grounds,
hut – two – three – four,
Passing the review stand,
All eyes right.
Tiny beads of sweat on
eyebrows forming,
Keeping the formation
ever-tight.
Bugles blare and drums drum,
Trombone, cymbals,
Clarinet and tuba keeping
pace.
Every note a sweet song
stringing memories,
Sugaring a smile on every
face.
Now the march is over,
Silence steps in,
No one in the anywhere makes
a sound.
Out of breath and spent with
satisfaction,
Marching, marching,
All fall down.
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