Breadfan

Proudly pounding those Pep Band drums, Swinging sticks side to side all night. But "Breadfan" bears fear, For so soon I shall face it, Willingly wailing away on those drums. Four ferocious drums staring me in the face, As I avidly await for him to start the count. Fingers fumbling the fragile sticks, As swiftly and soundly as the song begins. Trumpets and trombones take the lead, Waiting wishfully while my turn approaches. I start out soundly with a solid beat, Soon speeding up to a sweet pace. Faster and faster with fills and such, Conquering as the crowd goes crazy for the band, Making mad music as the football games go on, "Breadfan" begins to beget an end. For Fisher and I finish the song, With heads held high and drumsticks twirling.