• Twas the night before x-mas and all through the stands not a creature was stirring not even the band,
    the flutists and bass' lay in their beds with visions of drills dancing in their heads in hopes that the BD would soon be there to correct any and all mistakes there were sure to be had there,
    we all stay snuggled under the blankets worn to the point of the exhaustion while the championship trophy dances just beyond our reach,
    while I in my jacket and my friend in her stockings finally settled in for our midnight to dawn long "winters" nap,
    when out on the field rose such a clatter that caused us all to finch and only 1 going to see what the hell could be the matter.
    away to the door I peeked through the crack,
    to see if anything had attacked,
    the evening moon warmed the well beaten path giving a friendly glow for all to see and all to know,
    when my eyes should see our big red truck thrown open wide while with a joy man standing inside,
    quick as a flash as only the old man could be,
    I knew it had to be our dear director away and lively,
    more rapid than guard more fluent than tubas came to his call to the 8 crazy managers away without glee,
    he called to them by name of which I could not hear,
    but I saw them take action as each was announced giving them final orders he snapped out the call that forced them to action.
    they met with no fear while many obstacles came quite near,
    they avoided the trees and mistaking the stair on the truck to climb higher when the instrument cases were flying higher than their reach,
    only then did I know that it was our main man the director of course!,
    as he slunk through the cabins on one side of camp I hurried in the other direction of course there was no rat,
    I slid into my cabin replaced the lock on the door and prayed he got no ideas and knocked on the door,
    we all pretended not to hear as the raping sounded we all knew what would resound to be caught out of bed at this very late hour...
    our band director would have our head on his sunny day platter.
    when away came no noise and all sounds were silenced we all gathered round to hear the plans that had been sounded,
    I told no music no song worth sharing just some midnight truths about how the mangers were quite warily away with nothing left but to will the trucks to obey.
    And then we all hear which was our last bell of warning dawn had risen and the bugle had played...
    away was our night with no ounce of sleep...
    god damn you managers next year I want you to sleep!