Sound

The War Drummer
The War Drummer plays his snare in a cloud of gunpowder,
staccato hits careen across the Virginian rolling fields,
a snare never needs to reload,
the stoic face of a war drummer.

Never shoot the War Drummer,
To kill a mocking bird,
He only wears a cloak,
And keeps the rhythm for the air born cannon balls.

If the War Drummer is shot,
it should be in a crime of passion,
for if the drummer falls to his knees,
War is now in chaos!