| Lyrics |
-------------------------------------------(source: From "
Big Book of Plays", page 62-63)
Choir: We're marching, marching to Shibboleth, With the Eagle and the Sword! We're praising Zion 'til her death, Until we meet our last reward!
Men: Our Lord's reward!
Women: Zion! Oh happy Zion! O'er wrapp'd, but not detained!
Men: Lion, f'rocious Lion! His beard our mighty mane!
Women: At First and Main!
Men: Oh, we;ll go marching, marching to Omaha, With the Buckram and the Cord!
Women: You'll hear us "boom" our State!
Men: Ha, ha! As we cross the final ford!
Women: The flaming Ford!
Choir: Zion! Oh mighty Zion! Your bison now are dust! As your cornflakes rise "
Gainst the rust-red skies, Then our blood requires us must Go ...
Men: Marching, marching to Shibboleth, With the Eagle and the ...
Women: The Buckram and the Cord!
Men: Sword! Praising Zion 'til her death!
Women: Ha, ha!
Men: Until we eat our last reward!
Women: The flaming Ford!
Choir: Zion! Oh righteous Zion! There is no one to blame! For the homespun pies '
Neath the cracking skies Shall release the fulsome rain!
Tenor: Shall release!
Men: Shall release!
Soprano: Shall release!
Women: Shall release!
Choir: Shall release the vinyl rein!
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