The timpani JARVIS
Rolling
On wheels squeaking
Wobbling and then some
The great bonging drums
Carried forthwith the playing field
Gone and then some
Rattling around
A squeak squeaking noise
Packing up
The music of the night
Lite lingering strains
Of the big drums
On that jarvis 
Hey, hope on!
Juniors pull 
They strain, strain and pull
Hop on, hop on!
We hop
Spread eagled on splintering wood
A crashing, a banging
Rattling round the corner
Laugh laughing
Woody smoke, the excitement
It burns, it's a fire
Contagious
A disease
Into the bruised sky
That purple bruised sky we stared
On the splintering wood
With that laughing fire
Burning in us
Wind whistling
A crash crashing
And a rumbling across feet tamped ground
Hop on, hop on!
And the juniors, they yell 
What now, hey, what now?
Why do we pull the fresh men?
Oh, those percs
Oh, how they worked
And worked we did
That fire burning in the arms the limbs
Pushing that JARVIS of the great bonging drums
And rewarded with a ride.