Modulation

The people in the park
are listening to the band
The players blow their instruments
beneath a makeshift stand

The crimson-clad conductor
makes the spectacle fun
The people smile and doze
in the afternoon sun

Relaxing in their chairs
they are cooled by the breeze
That carries off the music
to be lost among the trees

The people in the park
are measuring their breath
Turning on a Ferris Wheel
of rebirth and death

And out beyond the wall
an ancient bus comes by
Crawling up Redemption Hill
they hear its gears whine

The people in the park
understand the time has come
The band has stopped playing
the Anthem has been sung