A BANDSMEN PLEDGE
My director is my leader I shall not want.
He maketh me march up and down the wet field.
He threatens my soul.
He leadeth me down the street behind horses.
Yea, though I march on the field of competition,
I will fear no judges, for God is with me.
My music and instrument comfort me.
Thou prepareth a table before me and serve me pizza.
Thou annointest my head with hat and plume.
My spit valve runneth over.
Surely goodness and superior rating shall follow me
all the days of my band career,
and I will dwell in the band room forever!