Lyrics - The Rough-as-a-cob March by Firesign Theatre

-------------------------------------------(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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