Please, oh Lord! Let the judges like what we do
May I stay in rhythm, let me not lose my count
For I dread they will see and point me out
This I well know is not so bad, but,
But the looks on my instructor could kill my dad
I ask not for myself but for the whole
Let us march in straight lines, and not on our toes
May my hands be true even though they're black and blue
It's the price we must pay for the tosses that get away
Protect me, Oh Lord! From you know who
They couldn't catch a cold you know this is true
When the show's almost over and the fans are on their feet
Keep me smiling that same smile, even though I can not breathe
Guard Goodies
Take Me Home!