• The trumpet sound, on merry ground
    All of the band is here
    Couples try to dance or die
    And wash away their fears

    What fun is this? This midnight jaunt?
    The players never wain
    Won’t stop till down and never pause
    On empty skies or rain

    Good sport here, passion there
    Dancers young and old
    The little boy skips with joy and flare
    His tale yet to be told
    The old man chats in the corner chair
    Not quite so bold

    Behind the glass, there they sit and ask,
    The disheveled and the weak

    “Can we join in too?”

    The band is in a fury
    More exuberant than before
    Begging cries drown and die
    Against the joyous fervor

    THE MIDNIGHT PLAYERS MARCH ON