As done by Baker’s Dozen’t: http://tinyurl.com/SCH3hip
THE HALF-MIND HYMNAL
A Songbook for Hash House Harriers
“Shocking! Disgusting! Delightful!”
Compiled by Flying Booger
February 2011 Edition
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The Half-Mind Hymnal is a songbook for Hash House Harriers. Hash House Harriers, like rugby players, sing offensive songs – consider yourself warned!
This songbook is a work in progress. When I compiled the first edition in 1993, I knew about 100 songs; the current edition contains more than 800. The Half-Mind Hymnal is dedicated to hashers and hashing. Special thanks to Zippy (may he hash and sing in peace), Bollox, Beaver Bam Bam Balls, Ian Cumming, Sauer Krotch, Dum BUF, Mu-Sick, Catwoman, Neptunus, Sodbuster, Smoking Wiener, and four non-hashers: Derek Cashman, Ed Cray, John Patrick, and Llewtrah. Thanks also to the authors of hash songbooks and to the many individual hashers who contributed (and continue to contribute) songs to this collection. Finally, thanks to the pilots of the USAF and NATO fighter squadrons in the Second Allied Tactical Air Force who started me singing and taught me the basic repertoire. Without their inspiration this songbook wouldn’t exist.
On-On!
Flying Booger
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Note to Song Masters: A great way to teach hashers new tunes is to copy one or two songs from this book, hand them out at the hash, then lead the pack in singing. Personally, I think that’s the best way to use this songbook.
Note on Copyright: There is some copyrighted material in this songbook – a few Monty Python songs, for example, that are popular with hashers. Please do not copy those, or tell anyone that I copied them! My own introductory comments, the way I organize the book, and the songs and poems I write myself are copyrighted, but you’re welcome to share them with other hashers. Other than that, 99% of the material in this songbook is in the public domain – these songs belong to all of us, just as the Half-Mind Hymnal belongs to hashers everywhere.
Note on Melodies: To aid hashers who may be unfamiliar with individual songs, I try to provide melodies to sing them by. But that’s not always possible: I myself have not heard all of these songs performed, and some songs have their own unique melodies – you simply have to hear them to know how they go.
Request for Contributions: If you know songs you don’t see here, or melodies to songs labeled “???” or “unknown,” please send them to me for inclusion in future editions. I’ll be happy to give you credit. My address is in the back.
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Songs in the Half-Mind Hymnal are grouped into the following categories:
DOWN-DOWN DITTIES & HASH RITUALS
– Short songs, chants, and prayers to liven up the circle and down-downs
HASH ANTHEMS
– Songs celebrating specific Hash House Harrier kennels
SONGS ABOUT HASHING & HASHERS
– Songs about hashing & hashers, what else?
OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS
– “I put my finger in the woodpecker’s hole . . .”
THE SPOKEN WORD
– Poems, toasts, recitals, etc
SWEET LOVIN’
– “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours . . .”
HASH CALISTHENICS
– Songs to get the pack movin’ & shoutin’
FAMOUS HARRIETTES
– Shocking, just shocking . . . the degradation of wymyn at its worst!
FAMOUS HARRIERS
– “With a yard-and-a-half of foreskin hangin’ down below his knees . . .”
IN VINO VERITAS
– Celebrating drink & drinking
HASH HOLIDAYS
– Seasonal ditties & carols
HASH STANDARDS
– Ah, there’s nothing like the classics!
JUST PLAIN SICK!
– “Who can take a fetus . . .”
SMOKING WIENER’S COCKY HASH SONGS
– This guy’s so prolific he gets his own section
YANKEE AIR PIRATES
– The songs that got me started
——————————————————————————–
DOWN-DOWN DITTIES & HASH RITUALS
A,B,C,D,E,F,G
Air Force Song
All Australians
Amazing Beer
An Dem Bier
Army Song
Aunt I High
Autohash Song
Battle Hymn of the Hasher
Beery Bunch
Biermaster’s Lament
Birthday Songs
Blessing of “G”
Blessing of the Hares
Circle Up Call
Dixie
Does a Hasher
Down Down Down Your Beer
Down Down Ditty
Dumb Shit
Farewell Song
Flying Booger’s Bashing Song
Ft Eustis Down-Down Songs
Hare Song
Hare Toast
Harrier Taunt
Harriette Taunt
Hash Benediction
Hash House Harriers
Hasher’s Prayer
Hash Pledge of Allegiance
Hash Rules
Hashin’ Brew
Heineken, Schmeineken
Her Left Tit
Here’s to _______ (Basic Down-Down Song)
Here’s to Brother Hasher(s)
He’s a Born Again Pisstank
He’s a Hasher, He’s Okay
He’s the Meanest (two versions)
He Wanks His Crank
Hillary, Mary
His One-Skin
Ice the Bitch
If Your Boyfriend Tastes Like Shit
If Your Girlfriend Tastes Like Shit
International Hash Hymn
It’s a Small Dick
Love Me Tender
Masturbation
Meet the Hashers
Mister Blue Balls
Moshi Moshi Ano Ne
Naming Ceremony
No Blow Song
Oh, Hashshit Boy
Our Lager
Park it on the Ice
Piss Off, Ya Wank
Returner’s Song
Salutations
Shiggy Soggy
Short Blessing
Short Hymn
Shortcutter’s Song
Sing, Sing a Song
Sing a Song of Six Checks
Soldier Song
Sound of Hashers
Thank God She Finally Shut Up
The Hasher Pukes Tonight
There was a Little Bird
They Ought to be Publicly Pissed On
This Hasher’s Been Wanking Off Again
This is Your Down-Down Song
Tired Hasher
Ugly
Viagra
Virgin Serenade
Visitor’s Song
War Hares
Wedding Ceremonies
Wedding Song
We Don’t Want to Hear a Song
We’re Here Because . . .
We’ve Got Virgins
What a Wank
Where Were You Last Week?
Why Are We Waiting?
Why Was He Born so Beautiful?
Why was She Born a Bitch?
Yankee Doodle
You are Our ______
You’re Stupid, You’re Stupid
Zicky-Zacky (expanded version)
Zulu Warrior
A,B,C,D,E,F,G
Melody – Alphabet Song
By Fuk Stik & Flying Booger
A, B, C, D, E, F, G,
Won’t you sing a song with me?
Grab a beer and raise your cup,
Lose that hat cuz it’s bad luck,
And when we say to drink it down,
Finish that beer and make a crown.
H, I, J, K, L-M-N-O-P.
Better get ready ’cause the beer’s flowin’ free.
Fill your vessel to the brim,
Don’t you wish you had some quim,
Raise your beer mug to your lips,
Get ready to take some dainty sips.
Q, R, S and T-U-V, W and X-Y-Z,
Now you’re ready to make whoopee,
Just remember this or you are dead,
Never never ever say head (oh, shit)
Head? Who said head? I’ll take some of that, etc . . .
AIR FORCE SONG
Melody – Off We Go, Into the Wild Blue Yonder
Contributed by Chimp Pimp, Osan Bulgogi HHH
Off we go,
Into the wild blue yonder.
Crash and burn,
Son of a bitch!
ALL AUSTRALIANS
Melody – The Old Grey Mare
All Australians are born illegitimate, born illegitimate, born illegitimate,
All Australians are born illegitimate . . . bastards thru and thru.
They ain’t got no, birth certificates, birth certificates, birth certificates.
They ain’t got no, birth certificates . . . bastards thru and thru.
AMAZING BEER
Melody – Amazing Grace
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
A – maz – ing beer, A taste profound, A whole keg just for thee! The pack is lost, But home you’ve found, The beer check you can see
AN DEM BIER
Melody – Ode to Joy
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
How much beer has he been drinking?
He is looking really lit.
As we sing here aren’t we thinking,
”Do we really give a shit?”
Who’s this wanker, so unseemly,
That his mom would surely frown?
Grab that beer and hold it firmly,
Drink it, drink it, down down down!
ARMY SONG
Melody – Be All That You Can Be
Contributed by Chimp Pimp, Osan Bulgogi HHH
Be, all that you can be.
Get a big fat wife,
And a fucked up life,
In the R-ME
(hoohah!)
R-Me! R-Me! R-me! R-me! R-me! (running in place)
R-Me training sir!
How do you spell R-Me?
R! Me! (point at self)
AUNT I HIGH
Melody – High Hopes
Contributed by Cannibis Licked Her, California Larrikins HHH
Just what makes my little old aunt?
Think she can smoke that cannabis plant.
Everyone knows an aunt, can’t, smoke a cannabis plant
But she has High Hopes
Yes she getting High – folks
So close your eyes before – my Aunt
Drops Her Pants.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
AUTOHASH SONG
Melody – Dear Lord, Won’t You Buy Me a Mercedes-Benz (Janis Joplin)
By Flying Booger
(used to honor autohashers)
(International version)
Dear Lord, won’t you give me a ride to the beer,
My friends are all drinking, and I’m stuck out here,
I’ll ride in a lorry, rickshaw, or tuk tuk,
If you drive me there I’ll throw in a down, down, down, down . . .
(USA version)
Dear Lord, won’t you give me a ride to the beer,
My friends are all drinking, and I’m stuck out here,
I’ll ride in a Chevy, a Ford or a truck,
If you drive me there I’ll throw in a down, down, down, down . . .
BATTLE HYMN OF THE HASHER
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
His eyes have seen the horror of the steepness of the trail, His ears have heard the whining of the whinging Hashers’ tale, His lips have felt the passing of this nation’s finest ale, This Hasher’s done it all!
CHORUS:
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Now drink it down, down, down!
(for wearers of new shoes)
His feet will feel the dampness of the clean footware he’s worn
His soul will sense the shame and wish that he had not been born
All of him will suffer pain like shiggy’s sharpest thorn
This Hasher’s worn new shoes!
THE BEERY BUNCH
Melody – Brady Bunch Theme
By Koresh, Las Vegas HHH
Here’s the story,
Of a thirsty hasher,
Who was running at the back of a pack.
Every bad trail that there was,
Well he found it.
He must have ran for miles!
It’s the story,
Of some sacred nectar,
That was chilling with a mind of it’s own.
It was one beer,
Sitting in the cooler,
Yet it still had no foam.
‘Till the circle,
When the hasher met the nectar.
And he knewwww it just couldn’t stick around.
That’s when his shorts went down around his ankles
And the beer became a down down down down down!
A down down down!
A down down down!
That’s the waaaaayyyyyyy it became a down down down!
BIERMEISTER’S LAMENT
Melody – Basket Cast (Greenday)
Composed by Rubba Dub Chub, Colombia H3
Do you have the time to listen to me bitch about all the beer I brought for us? It was a ton. I knew we’d all have fun. But now we’re running dry and I know why. [to tune of song chorus] The cooler was filled up to here (motion above head), but these fuckers drank all the damn beer! (elbow toward hashers) They drank it down, They drank it down, They drank it down, d-down down down.
BIRTHDAY SONGS
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 1
Melody – Happy Birthday to You
Happy birthday, fuck you,
Happy birthday, fuck you,
Happy birthday, you asshole,
Happy birthday, fuck you.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 2
Melody – Happy Birthday to You
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
You look like a hasher,
And you smell like one too.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 3
Melody – Happy Birthday to You
Contributed by Mudrock, Las Vegas HHH
May you live one hundred years
May you drink one million beers
Get plastered you bastard
Happy Birthday to you.
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 4
Melody – Here’s to _____, He’s a Blue
Composed by Flying Booger for Scratch ‘n’ Sniff’s 30th
Here’s to (name), she’s true blue,
It’s her birthday, boo hoo hoo,
She is (age) if she’s a day,
Wishes she were younger,
But there’s no way!
Drink it down, down, down . . .
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 5
Melody – Oliver!
Composed by Bach ‘n’ Forth, Palm Beach HHH, in honor of Shortcake’s 50th; included here on the off-chance it can be adapted for other hashers’ birthdays
You’re 50 years old, Shortcakes.
You’ve finally reached half of a century.
We hope you’ve got what it takes . . . to stay . . . a-live till you’re 51!
Maybe it’s time to take some respite from these trashing days; the end of your hashing days is near . . .
Let’s hope the Chester the Molester doesn’t kill you first with that home-brew shit he calls beer!
You’re 50 years old, Shortcakes.
Here’s wishing you lots of luck . . .
And hoping that the future holds in store for you . . . 50 more years to fuck!
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 6
Melody – The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You
Contributed by Zippy
Your day of birth is now upon you,
You’re older by one day,
Your day of birth is now upon you,
And now you’re gonna pay,
The Hash is gonna lay it on you,
You dirty bastard (bitchin’) hound,
Your day of birth is now upon you,
Drink it down, down down down down
______
BIRTHDAY SONG # 7
Melody – Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-Te-Aay
Contributed by Nose Candy
This is your birthday song,
It isn’t very long . . .
Drink it down, down, down . . .
BLESSING OF “G”
Optional prayer offered by the religious advisor before the hash, from Shuttle Cock of the Houston HHH . . . should be performed in the style of a Catholic/Episcopal dismissal
RA: The buzz which passes all understanding,
Keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of hashing,
And the Blessing of “G” all plastered:
The Flour (make first slash of “X” in the air)
The Sun (complete the “X” in the air)
And the Short Cut that pays off (make circle around “X” in the air)
Be among you and remain with you always.
Go Forth to Love and Serve the Hash.
Pack: Thanks be to “G!”
BLESSING OF THE HARES
Optional prayer offered by the religious advisor before the hash, with local embellishments. This version is from the Tampa HHH.
Bless these hares,
Bless this trail,
Coppus no catch us,
Farmer no shoot us,
Doggus no bite us,
Heatus no stroke us,
Plenty of cold beer to drink,
Coitus non interruptus.
CIRCLE UP CALL
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Mu-Sick
Now that the trail is done,
Let’s circle up for some fun,
And then we’ll drink and drink,
And then we’ll drink some more.
Then the hares we’ll hail,
For running their fucking trail,
And then they’ll drink and drink,
And then they’ll drink some more.
And when the circle’s done,
We’ll drink to the setting sun,
And then we’ll drink,
Throw up,
Pass Out,
Wake Up,
And then we’ll drink some more.
DIXIE
Melody – Dixie
By Chimp Pimp, Osan Bulgogi HHH
I wish I was in Dixie,
Hooray! Hooray!
‘Cause she’s fuckin’ hot!
DOES A HASHER?
Melody – Do Your Balls Hang Low?
Does a hasher like to walk,
Does a hasher like to run,
Does a hasher like to be where they’re having all the fun?
Can he drink a 12-ounce beer,
While his friends all sing and cheer,
Now your time has come.
So drink it down, down, down . . .
DOWN DOWN DOWN YOUR BEER
Melody – Row Row Row Your Boat
Composed by Arabian Goggler
Down Down Down your beer, To pay for your crime. Quit complaining about the taste, There’s no sperm this time.
DOWN DOWN DITTY
Composed by Cockshot, Corpus Christi HHH
Put it to your lips
Give the Mug a tip
Don’t just take a sip
Drink it down, down ,down . . .
DUMB SHIT
Melody – Refrain from Music Man
By Black Flag, Aloha HHH, Hawaii (good song for violators)
Dumb, dumb, dumb shit,
Dumb shit, dumb shit,
Dumb, dumb, dumb shit,
Dumb, dumb, dumb . . .
FAREWELL SONG
Melody – Auld Lang Syne
Composed by Flying Booger in December 1994, on the departure of Down, Under, and family, included here because it’s simple and can easily be changed to fit the names of your own departing hashers
Here’s to Down and Under,
And Slinky, and Blue Hawaii,
Who leave us for Australia,
We’ll miss you very much.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
FLYING BOOGER’s BASHING SONG
Melody – Itself
By Flying Booger, for the Pedalfiles Bike Hash
Dear mom your son is dead, he met his match today,
He rode his bicycle across the big highway,
There was a truck in the road, with a big heavy load,
Hmmm, hmmm, FUCK HIM!
Motherfucker’s dead, motherfucker’s dead,
Son’s comin’ home in a body bag,
Oh, doo dah day!
FT. EUSTIS DOWN-DOWN SONGS
Melody – ???
From the Ft. Eustis HHH Songbook
TO VIOLATORS:
All: You worthless, sniveling piece of trash,
Now you’ve gone and shown your ass!
GM: Your behavior’s unfit!
You must learn hash tradition!
All: So charge your vessel and assume the position:
On your knees, asshole!
Drink it down, down, down . . .
TO THE SLOW DRINKER:
All this time that you’re taking,
I know that you’re faking,
We could be masturbating,
I fear.
Now we’ve run out of song,
And we won’t get along,
Until you finish,
That fucking beer!
HARE SONG
Melody – Mr. Sandman
Contributed by Soft Taco, Montgomery HHH
Oh Mister Hasher, lay us a trail,
But make it easy cause we run like a snail,
We’d really like to catch you,
So Mr. Hasher lay us a trail.
Oh Mr. Hasher don’t fuck it up,
Cause if you do we’re gonna catch up,
We’d really like to catch you,
So Mr. Hasher lay us a trail.
Oh Mr. Hasher show us your ass,
All covered in pimples, ready to smash,
We’d really like to catch you,
So Mr. Hasher lay us, please, please lay us, please, please lay us . . . a trail.
HARE TOAST
By Guamarhea Balls, Corpus Christi Bay Area Larrikins HHH
Here’s to the Hounds with their ten-minute clock,
Here’s to the Hasher with the twelve-inch cock.
Here’s to the Hash House with honor and grace,
Here’s to the Harriette with her puss on my face.
Here’s to the Trail as shitty as can be,
Here’s to the Hares whose asses you’ll see!
HARRIER TAUNT
Melody – I Wish I Were an Oscar Meyer Weiner
Contributed by Little Red Pipe Rider, Oklahoma City HHH
Oh we wish he wasn’t hung like a mosquito,
Tiny’s what he truly seems to be-e-e,
For if he wasn’t hung like a mosquito,
He’d surely get a lot more play from me!!
HARRIETTE TAUNT
Melody – I Wish I Were an Oscar Meyer Weiner
By Sniff This, Tornado Alley HHH
Oh they wish they were a hasher with a wiener,
That is what they’d truly like to be.
For if they were a hasher with a wiener,
They wouldn’t have to stop and squat to pee.
HASH BENEDICTION
By P’Tooey, Calgary HHH
Gispert guide us on this hash,
As along the trail we dash,
Guide our feet on ice and snow,
As to the drink stop we will go,
Let the moon so brightly shine,
Leading us to beer so fine.
HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Melody – Addams Family Theme
Their drinking is compulsive and
Their running is convulsive,
They’re morally repulsive,
The Hash House Harriers.
CHORUS:
Da da da da (snap fingers twice)
Da da da da (snap fingers twice)
Da da da da, da da da da, da da da da
Their flatulence is rude and
Their genitals protrude when
They’re running in the nude in
The Hash House Harriers.
They’re always shiggy tracking
From constantly bush-whacking,
Intelligence they’re lacking,
The Hash House Harriers.
Da da da da, Down Down, etc . . .
HASHER’S PRAYER
From the Global Trash Hash Bible, by Stray Dog
God bless Gispert, hallowed be his name. His hash be laid on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily Beer. And forgive us our Ah-Shits, as we also forgive those who pissed us off. And lead us not unto temptation to Short-Cut; but deliver us to the On-In. For the beer is cold, and the Pack is thirsty for ever and ever, Amen.
HASH PLEDGE OF ALLIEGANCE
By SS Minnow, Buffalo HHH
I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the (insert your hash here) hash house harriers.
And to the debauchery, for which it stands, one hash, without rules, incorrigible, with shiggy, and beer, for all.
HASH RULES
From the Adelaide HHH, South Australia, contributed by Jon Raeburn
1. No poofters.
2. There is no rule 2.
3. See rule 1. No poofters.
4. No stealing (see hereunder – definition of stealing):
Stealing – the covert removal of another Hashman’s property with the intention of depriving said Hashman of such property for an indefinite period of time.
5. No stealing, but borrowing is okay (see hereunder the definition of borrowing):
Borrowing is the act of covert temporary removal of another Hashman’s property
(property in this instance is confined to items of a portable nature and directly related to hashing such as mugs, bugles and run books). Substantial items such as kegs whilst being directly related to hashing should never be borrowed. At all times the property borrowed is held for a relatively short period of time and always returned in good order. Often such property is enhanced by suitable engraving to record for posterity the guile of the borrower. Borrowing is a complex issue and where any doubt exists the Grand
Master should be consulted.
6. No poofters.
7. Rain is not permitted during Hash runs. The Religious Advisor is personally responsible for ensuring that fine conditions prevail for a period of not less than one hour each Monday from
6.00 pm.
8. No poofters.
9. No discrimination. Wogs, abos, poms, unemployed, dogs, women, criminals, disabled, nymphomaniacs, Collingwood supporters and even lawyers are all encouraged to run Hash. Alcoholics are particularly welcome. Athletes are tolerated in some Hashes. Athletes, dogs and females whilst permitted to run can never aspire to become Grand Master.
10. Definitely no poofters.
11. No competitiveness.
12. Under no circumstances are poofters permitted to run Hash.
13. No training. Persons caught training will be deemed to have breached Rule # 11 and will be liable to a charge. A range of activities may be interpreted as training, and for guidance the following non-exhaustive list is provided:
a) Running other than official Hash runs
b) Cycling (fornication on a push bike is exempt)
c) Visiting a gymnasium for any other purpose than perving on the aerobics class
d) Using the stairs while escalators are available
e) Rooting the wife/girlfriend when so pissed it is a marathon effort
14. All Hashmen must commit to memory rules 1, 2 and 3 and be able to recite them at any hour of the day or night regardless of their state of inebriation.
15. Poofterism will not be fucking tolerated under any conditions.
16. No fighting at Hash. This rule is absolute and the entire culture of Hash relies on strict adherence to this rule. If a fellow Hashman causes you immense displeasure by stealing your car or impregnating your daughter (wives are exempt) then belt shit out of him at some other place than Hash and on some other day than Monday which is a day of reverence and tranquillity.
17. Poofters will be shot on sight. No poofters.
18. Other rules may be enacted by the committee as they see fit.
19. Amendments to Rules 1, 3, 6, 8, 10, 12, 15 and 17 are illegal.
Note: Bestiality is not covered in these Rules due to the proliferation of New Zealand Hashes. Whilst ovine relationships are discouraged in Australia, subject to certain rules it will be tolerated:
a) The fucker must be of NZ birth or citizenship
b) The fuckee must be a ewe (no poofters!)
c) The fuckee must be a consenting adult
d) The fuckee must be reasonably attractive
As this item is not incorporated in Hash rules, all behaviour covered by the above note is subject to determination by the Grand Master.
HASHIN’ BREW
Melody – That Good Old Mountain Dew
By Seldom Comes
They call it that good ole’ hashin’ brew, brew, brew,
And them that refuse it are few,
You’ll hush up yur mug,
When you down-down yur jug,
Of that good ole’ hashin’ brew.
Chug it down, down, down . . .
HEINEKEN, SCHMEINEKEN
Chant
Heineken, schmeineken,
Fuck that shit!
Pabst . . . Blue . . . Ribbon!
HER LEFT TIT
Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
Her left tit hangs down to her belly,
Her right tit hangs down to her knee.
If her left tit did equal her right tit,
She’d get lots of weenie from me.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
HERE’S TO ________ (BASIC DOWN-DOWN SONG)
Melody – Itself
______
VERSION # 1
Here’s to ,
He’s true blue, (he’s a blue)
He’s a Hasher,
Through and through,
He’s a pisspot, (he’s an asshole)
So they say,
Tried to go to heaven, (he’ll never get to heaven)
But he went the other way, (in a long, long way)
So drink it down, down, down . . .
______
VERSION # 2
Here’s to ,
She’s a damn fine gal,
Here’s to ,
She’s a damn fine gal,
So drink, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug,
chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug,
Here’s to ,
She’s a horse’s ass.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, etc . . .
Melody – Ach, Du Lieber Augustin
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Here’s to brother (sister) hasher,
Bother hasher, brother hasher,
Here’s to brother hasher,
May he chug-a-lug.
He’s happy, he’s jolly,
He’s fucked up by golly,
Here’s to brother hasher,
May he chug-a-lug.
So drink motherfucker,
Drink motherfucker,
Drink motherfucker,
Drink motherfucker,
Here’s to brother hasher,
May he chug-a-lug.
Variation:
Here’s to Brother Johnny, brother Johnny, brother Johnny,
Here’s to brother Johnny who’s with us tonight.
He beats it, he eats it, he often mistreats it,
Here’s to Brother Johnny who’s with us tonight.
Another Variation (by S&M&M&M&M Man, Cleveland HHH):
Here’s to the studs, the studs, the studs,
Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.
They eat it, they beat it, they really mistreat it.
Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.
So down chug-a-luga, down chug-a-lug-a . . .
______
Another Variation:
Here’s to the studs, the studs, the studs.
Here’s to the studs who are with us tonight.
They’re faggots, they’re maggots,
When they suck it, they gag it.
Here’s to the studs, who are with us tonight.
So down chug-a-lug-a, down chug-a-lug-a . . .
HE’S A BORN AGAIN PISSTANK
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Mike “SmallBone” Featherston
He’s a Born again pisstank cause he’s seen the light
Of the big neon sing that spells pub.
His prayers have been answered
His cup runneth over
As if he had heard from above.
It’ll seem like an angel will piss on his tonsils
Or that horny young barmaid herself
His life’s been made different
He’s a born again pisstank
And the rest can all go to Hell!
Drink it down down down down. . . .
HE’S A HASHER, HE’S OKAY
Melody – Lumberjack Song (Monty Python)
He’s a hasher, he’s okay,
Works all day, comes out to play,
Drinks it down without complaint,
Or he wears it well.
Drink it!
Wear it!
Drink it!
Wear it!
etc . . .
HE’S THE MEANEST
Melody – Itself (similar to Okinawa HHH melody)
He’s the meanest,
He sucks the horse’s penis,
He’s the meanest,
He’s a horse’s ass.
All he does is pound it,
Ever since he found it,
He’s the meanest,
He’s a horse’s ass.
He’s always pissing on us,
He’s rotten and dishonest,
He’s the meanest,
He’s a horse’s ass.
So drink it down, down, down . . .
Variation:
She’s superior,
She’s got class,
She’s superior,
She’s a horse’s ass.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
Another Variation:
Hurrah for (name),
Hurrah at last,
Hurrah for (name),
He’s the horse’s arse.
Don’t be mistaken,
Don’t be mislead,
He’s not the horse’s arse,
He’s the horse’s head.
HE WANKS HIS CRANK
Melody – Itself
By Mud Fucker, Bay City HHH
He wanks his crank in the morning
He wanks his crank in the night
He wanks his crank with his left hand
and he cleans it up with his right.
So drink it down, down, down . . .
HILLARY, MARY
Melody – Itself
Composed by Guamarhea Balls’ Dad, Corpus Christi Bay Area Larrikins HHH
One, two, three, Hillary,
My first name is Mary,
Don’t you think I’d look cute
In my Daddy’s bathing suit?
HIS ONE-SKIN
Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
His one skin hangs down to his two skin,
His two skin hangs down to his three,
His three skin hangs down to his foreskin,
His foreskin hangs down to his knee.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
OPTIONAL VERSES:
Roll back, roll back,
Roll back his foreskin for him, for him.
Roll back, roll back,
Please roll back his foreskin for him.
His body lies over the ocean,
His body lies over the sea,
His father lies over his mother,
And that’s how they created him.
ICE THE BITCH
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
By Long & Hard, inspired by Zippy, dedicated to She Mussel Bitch
Ice the bitch, She Mussel Bitch,
Numb, the price you have to pay,
Sit, right there and down that beer,
Yes, you pissed off the R.A.
Damn, your ass is getting red,
And, your lips are turning blue,
Place, that mug above your head,
And prove you downed that brew.
Generic harriette version:
Ice the bitch, yes ice the bitch . . .
(same as above)
Generic harrier version:
Ice the wank, yes ice the wank . . .
(same as above)
IF YOUR BOYFRIEND TASTES LIKE SHIT
Melody – If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands
If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over, If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over, If your boyfriend tastes like shit, he’s probably pushing it, If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over.
Alternate version:
If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over,
If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over,
If your boyfriend tastes like shit, it’s a log, not his dick,
If your boyfriend tastes like shit, turn him over.
IF YOUR GIRLFRIEND TASTES LIKE SHIT
Melody – If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands
If your girlfriend tastes like shit, turn her over, If your girlfriend tastes like shit, turn her over, If your girlfriend tastes like shit, its her asshole not her clit, If your girlfriend tastes like shit, turn her over.
INTERNATIONAL HASH HYMN
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/swing-low/
Note: gestures accompany words
I looked over Jordan and what did I see,
Coming for to carry me home,
A band of angels coming after me,
Coming for to carry me home.
CHORUS:
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I’m sometimes up and sometimes down,
Comin’ for to carry me home,
But still my soul feels heavenly bound.
Comin’ for to carry me home.
If you get there before I do,
Coming for to carry me home,
Tell all my friends that I’m coming too,
Coming for to carry me home.
(repeat with variations: humming and motions only, silence and motions only, double-time)
IT’S A SMALL DICK
Melody – It’s a Small World
Contributed by Hazukashii
Well it isn’t long and it isn’t thick,
It gets hard too slow and it cums too quick,
It gets lost in her twat,
But it’s all that he’s got,
It’s a small, small, dick.
It’s a small dick after all,
It’s a small dick after all,
Always limp from alcohol,
It’s a small, small, dick!
LOVE ME TENDER
Melody – Love Me Tender
By Nipple Me Elmo
Love me tender, love me sweet Wrap your lips around my meat Watch me smile and watch me grin As the cum rolls down, down, down, down, down etc . . .
MASTURBATION
Melody – Alouette
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
(Song to a male)
Masturbation, he loves masturbation
Masturbation, it’s what he loves to do
First he’ll use his right hand
Then he’ll use his left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Masturbation, it’s what he’d rather do.
So drink it down down down down . . .
(Song to a female)
Masturbation, we love masturbation
Masturbation, it’s what we love to do
First we’ll use our right hand
Then we’ll use our left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Masturbation, while thinking about you.
So drink it down down down down . . .
MEET THE HASHERS
Melody – Flintstones Theme
Hashers, meet the hashers,
They’re the biggest drunks in history,
From Las Vegas, N-V (or your favorite town),
They’re the leaders in debauchery.
Half minds, trailing shiggy through the years,
Watch them as they down a lot of beers,
Down down, down down down down,
Down down down down down down down down down,
Down down, down down down down,
Down down down down down down down down down.
MISTER BLUE BALLS
Melody – Zip-a-dee-do-dah
By Yank My Wad, Charleston HHH (a good song for calling the hares to the ice)
Zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,
My oh my, what a miserable lay.
Haring is great but, beerings the best,
Time for your down-down, put the ice on the chest.
Slap your ass cheeks ’round that ice hole, it’s a fact, it’s irrefutable, it’s cold right on your pubicals.
Zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,
Down-downs are better than your miserable lay.
Mr. Blue Balls formed an icicle
He’s all cold and furry too, better find something to screw
Oh zip-a-dee-do-dah, zip-a-dee-day,
Hope you like ice, ’cause that’s where you’ll stay.
MOSHI MOSHI ANO NE
Melody – London Bridge is Falling Down
Contributed by John Patrick
Note: this song is used when hashers make or take cell phone calls in the circle
Moshi moshi,
Ano ne,
Ano ne, ano ne,
Moshi Moshi,
Ano ne,
Asshole desu ka.
Drink It Down Down Down . . .
English translation:
Hello (answering phone), ummm ummm, ummm Hello, ummm Are you an asshole? Drink it Down Down Down . . .
NAMING CEREMONY
Contributed by Stray Dog
RA: Prostrate yourself before your fellow hashers.
(Hasher kneels or lies prostrate on the ground in accordance with local custom, with assistance from mismanagement as necessary)
RA: Before you are initiated into the fold and bestowed the holy Hash Name, what have you to say for yourself.
Hasher: I’m not worthy.
RA: (reads verses)
1. In the beginning was the Hash, and the Hash was with Beer and the Hash was Beer.
2. The same was in the beginning with Gispert.
3. The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Hash, that all men through him might believe.
4. And when he was baptized, went straight up and received the Down-Down.
5. And lo a voice from heaven, saying, this is my beloved hasher in whom I am well pleased.
6. Not by the works of righteousness we have done, but according to the mercy of the Pack are you saved, by washing of regeneration, and renewing of the holy Thirst.
7. Therefore if any person be in the Hash, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things become new.
8. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed as a competitor, but alive as a member of the Pack, to boldly go forth on the trail and pursue the Holy Hash Beer.
(RA grasps the bag of hash and sprinkles it on the Hasher)
RA: I baptize you in the name of Gispert and all other great hashers who came before you.
(RA sprinkles beer on the Hasher)
RA: Your friends have gotten together and chosen your name and you will hereafter be known as ____________.
(As local tradition dictates, the rest of the pack may be issued flour and beer to further ‘baptize’ the hasher)
RA: Rise and cleanse thy soul.
(The hasher is handed a beer and does a down-down in accordance with the traditions of the hash)
NO BLOW SONG
Melody – Looney Tunes Theme
Composed by Flying Booger
Used for honoring hashers who have forgotten their whistles
You seem somewhat forgetful,
Remind you? Maybe this’ll,
Next time you come, don’t be so dumb,
Just bring your fucking whistle!
OH, HASHSHIT BOY
Melody – Danny Boy
By Pillsbury Blow Boy, Long Beach HHH
Oh, Hashshit Boy, the trail, the trail is calling,
From check to check, you’ll stumble through with pride.
The beer’s all gone, but harriettes are bawling,
“Fuck me, fuck me, oh, fuck me deep inside.
And come on me, if you won’t come inside me.
Just stick it in and we will go to town.
And if I cum, then I will do my specialty,
Oh, Hashshit Boy, oh Hashshit, I will go
down-down-down . . .”
OUR LAGER
Prayer
Our Lager
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink.
Thy will be drunk,
I will be drunk,
At home as in the tavern.
Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us.
And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.
For thine is the Beer, The Bitter, and the Lager,
Barmen.
PARK IT ON THE ICE
Melody – I’ve Been Working on the Railroad (?)
Composed by Barney and Tartle, Classic City HHH
Park it on the ice,
Park it on the ice,
Park it on the ice – you know how to!
Park it on the ice,
Park it on the ice,
Till your genitals turn blue.
Someone’s parkin’ them butt cheeks,
Someone’s ass is blue.
Someone’s gonna do a down-do———wn!
It just might be you!
PISS OFF, YA WANK
Melody – Auld Lang Syne
Piss off, ya wank, piss off, ya wank,
Piss off, ya wank, piss off,
Piss off, ya wank, piss off, ya wank,
Piss off, ya wank, piss off.
RETURNER’S SONG
Melody – It’s a Small World After All
By Pillsbury Blow Boy, Long Beach HHH
They’ve returned to us, some from far away,
Some fucking excuse, each of them did say,
As we listen to it,
We know they’re full of shit,
They are assholes, after all.
They are assholes, after all,
They are assholes, after all,
They are assholes, after all,
Fuck you all, assholes.
Drink it down, down, down, down . . . etc.
SALUTATIONS
Melody – ???
We call upon __________
To give us a song.
So sing, you fucker, sing!
And if you don’t sing
You can show us your schwing.
We don’t want to see your moldy old schwing!
So sing, you fucker, SING!
SHIGGY SOGGY
Melody – Zicky Zacky
By Greatful Head and Purple Helmet, Bay City HHH
Shiggy Soggy,
Shiggy Soggy,
ON-ON-ON!
Shiggy Soggy,
Shiggy Soggy,
ON-ON-ON!
Drink it down, down, down . . .
SHORT BLESSING
Melody – Superman Theme
Composed by Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Shit, Las Vegas HHH
Thank you Lord, for giving us beer
Thank you Lord, for giving us beer,
Lagers and ale,
Hares to lay trail,
Thank you Lord
For giving us beer!
SHORT HYMN
Melody – Amen
(with reverence)
Hymn, hymn, (Her, her,)
Fuck him . . . (Fuck her . . .)
SHORTCUTTER’S SONG
Melody – Suicide is Painless (from the movie M.A.S.H.)
By Gopher
Through a hungover fog I see,
Visions of a hash to be.
The on-in site comes clear to me,
I’ll run straight there whit childish glee.
’cause
Shortcutters are shameless
The on-in site they hope they’ll guess
but they come in dead last usually
I ran through a BT today
To catch the hares I hoped and prayed.
The bastards went the other way
and I came in last, what’s left to say
But
Shortcutters are shameless,
The on-in site we hope we’ll guess
but we come in dead last usually
Now all these beers have slowed me down,
and made my belly full and round
shortcutting’s the path I’ve found
so sing a song and I’ll drink it down!
’cause
Shortcutters are shameless
The on-in site I hoped I’d guess
but I came in dead last as you see
and you can short cut with me if you please
SING, SING A SONG
Melody – Same (the Carpenters)
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Sing, sing a song,
Sing out bawdy,
Sing out strong,
Sing of good trails not bad,
Sing of happy not sad.
Sing, sing a song,
Make it simple to last,
The whole hash long,
Don’t worry that it’s not,
Clean enough for little ones’
Ears to hear,
Just sing, sing a song.
Sing, sing a song,
Let the circle sing along,
Sing of sex there could be,
Sing for you and for me.
Sing, sing a song,
Make it simple to last,
The whole hash long,
Don’t worry that it’s not,
Clean enough for little ones’
Ears to hear,
Just sing, sing a song.
So drink it down down down, etc.
SING A SONG OF SIX CHECKS
Melody – Sing a Song of Six Pence
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
Sing a song of six checks,
A pocket full of flour,
Four-and-twenty hashers,
Hashing for an hour.
And when they found the beer check,
There wasn’t any there.
All agreed to go On-In
And lynch that goddamn hare!
SOLDIER SONG
Melody – Itself
Asshole, asshole, a soldier I will be,
To piss, to piss, two pistols on my knee,
For cunt, for cunt, to fight for my country,
Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,
A soldier I will be.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
SOUND OF HASHERS
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
Give (name) a beer, a really big beer,
We will watch him drink it down.
Girls, you know if he drinks it all,
He will never get it up.
Oh, the stories sad to tell,
It picked up and then it fell.
You would die if you could see,
(name), slap his tiny wee-wee.
THANK GOD SHE FINALLY SHUT UP
Melody – Looney Tunes Theme
Contributed by the Agana HHH (Guam), an excellent down-down song for harriettes
Thank God she finally shut up,
She’s always fuckin’ bitchin’,
Now drink your beer, get out of here,
Get back into the kitchen!
THE HASHER PUKES TONIGHT
Melody – The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
Short version (suitable for down-downs):
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight. In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
CHORUS: Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, drink it down down down! Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, drink it down down down!
THERE WAS A LITTLE BIRD
Melody – Itself
There was a little bird,
No bigger than a turd,
A-sittin’ on a telephone pole.
He ruffled up his neck,
And shit about a peck,
He puckered up his little asshole.
(point at violators): Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,
He puckered up his little asshole.
THEY OUGHT TO BE PUBLICLY PISSED ON
Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
They ought to be publicly pissed on,
They ought to be publicly shot,
They ought to be tied to a urinal,
And left there to fester and rot,
Drink it down, down, down . . .
THIS HASHER’S BEEN WANKING OFF AGAIN
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
This Hasher’s been whacking off again, hurrah, hurrah! This Hasher’s been whacking off again, hurrah, hurrah! This Hasher’s been whacking off again, So give him a drink or he’ll start it again, And we’ll keep him busy, Drinking it down, down, down!
THIS IS YOUR DOWN-DOWN SONG
Melody – Ta-Rah-Rah-Boom Te-Ay
Contributed by Nose Candy, Las Vegas HHH
This is your Down-Down song,
It isn’t very long. . . .
THE TIRED HASHER
Melody – Itsy Bitsy Spider
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
The tired (name hash) Hasher,
Went trudging up the hill,
Stopped at the Beer Check,
And there he drank his fill,
And when the trail was over,
His shoes were muddy brown.
Though he was drunk already,
He had to drink it down, down, down, down . . .
U-G-L-Y
Chant
Contributed by Bimbo by Day, jHavelina HHH
U-G-L-Y, you ain’t got no alibi, you’re ugly, you’re ugly, you’re father says you’re ugly!
D-A-D-D-Y, you don’t even know that guy, your daddy, your daddy, your daddy says you’re ugly!
U-N-C-L-E, he might be your real daddy, your uncle, your uncle, your uncle says you’re ugly!
VIAGRA
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH
Give ______ some pills, the famous ‘V’,
We will watch him eat ’em down.
Boys, you know if he takes them all,
Tonight he’ll never get to sleep.
Oh, the story fun to tell,
How, it rose and never fell.
Girls, you’d laugh if you could see,
______ beat his rock-hard wee-wee wee wee wee wee wee.
Drink it down down down down.
VIRGIN SERENADE
Melody – Ball of Ballyknure
Composed by Dr D, Ft Eustis HHH
Four and twenty (or however many there are) virgins,
Came out to this old hash,
And when the hash was over,
There were four and twenty less.
CHORUS:
Singing, balls to your partner,
Arse against the wall.
If ye canna get laid at this old hash
Ye’ll never get laid at all.
OPTIONAL VERSES:
This fine young virgin SHE was there,
She had drank a bit too much,
Showing us her titties,
But sayin’ we couldna touch.
This cocky virgin HE was there,
Drinking Old Milwaukee’s Best,
Showing the girls his tiny dick,
The girls they weren’t impressed.
This other virgin SHE was there,
Talkin’ ’bout givin’ head,
But when it came to swallowin’,
She would spit instead.
This other virgin HE was there,
Askin’ ’bout toe sucks,
The harriettes frowned and then they said,
“What do you want for three bucks?”
The other virgin SHE was there,
Givin’ us all a great view,
While dancing on the table,
She said she’d do the crew.
This other virgin HE was there,
Getting drunk as he could be,
And by the time the circle broke up,
He’d pissed a gallon of pee.
This fine young virgin SHE was there,
With legs all firm and tan,
Her shorts rode up her ass so tight,
They squeaked whenever she ran.
VISITOR’S SONG
Melody – Underdog Theme
By Hazukashii, Samurai HHH
SONGMASTER:
There’s no need to fear!
PACK:
We’ve got lots of beer!
When visitors in this hash appear,
And pay five bucks to drink our beer,
And offend all those who see or hear,
The cry goes out both far and near to,
DRINK IT DOWN
Drink it down
DRINK IT DOWN
Drink it down,
Speed of lightening, roar of thunder,
Chug it down, or show us Chunder,
Drink it down. . . . .
OPTIONAL SECOND VERSE:
When in this world the Hash Trash reads,
Of those who think they’ve come to breed,
And steal hash things from those who need,
The call goes out with blinding speed to,
DRINK IT DOWN,
Drink it down,
DRINK IT DOWN,
Drink it down,
Speed of lightening, roar of thunder,
Chug it down, or show us Chunder,
Drink it down. . . . .
WAR HARES
Melody – War Pigs (Black Sabbath)
Composed by Oral Roberts
He runs slower than molasses Cause he’s scoping young boys’ asses Master of inebriation And delayed ejaculation All those oozing sores are burning From the tricks that he’s been turning With the ladies he has no luck Cause he’s always too drunk to fuck, Down-down-down!
WEDDING CEREMONIES
______
WEDDING CEREMONY # 1
Contributed by Stray Dog, Global Trash
1. Dearly intoxicated, we are gathered here in the presence of the Pack to join this hasher and this harriette in holy mattress monkey.
2. Attesting to their dreary and lonely lives, they have now resolved to end each future hash by going home and getting lucky every time without need for self-gratification or technology.
3. We come to celebrate the end of their wanking ways and to cheer in the joy of sex outside masturbation.
4. (insert hasher’s name), do you take this harriette for better or for worse, on the rag and in health, on bad hair days and good, to have and to hash with until death do you part?
(Hasher answers) “I do”
5. (insert harriette’s name), do you take this hasher for better or for worse, in vomit and in shiggy, with his farts and his smell, to have and to hash with until death do you part?
(Harriette answers) “I do”
6. Please raise your beers and repeat after me. With this beer, I thee wed.
(Both) “With this beer, I thee wed.”
(RA leads pack in a down-down song of his choosing or local tradition and the bride and groom drink at the appropriate time, after which . . .)
7. I now pronounce you hasher and harriette, doomed to spend the rest of your lives running the hash together. May you go forth and multiply, bearing many new little horrors to fill our trails.
8. You may now moon the pack.
(The pack showers them with spewed beer and hash as local tradition dictates.)
______
WEDDING CEREMONY # 2
Contributed by Cold Cuts & Slave to the Mattress, Ft Eustis HHH
Dearly incarcerated, we are gathered here today to celebrate the bondage between Slave to the Mattress and Cold Cuts. This day signifies the end of the ability to come and go as you please, of freely ogling members of the opposite sex, of innocently flirting without repercussion, and of making that monumental decision, “Should I go to the hash?” without first wondering what your cellmate, I mean soul mate, already has planned.
Is there anyone present knowing of any reason why we should not consider Slave and Cold Cuts permanently sentenced to life in holly mattress moaning?
Cold Cuts, do you take Slave to the Mattress to be your hashing partner until the beer runs out?
And Slave, do you take Cold Cuts, to be your sole provider of vaginal stimulation until impotence sets in?
Cold Cuts, repeat after me: I, Cold Cuts, promise to be sexually satisfying, to be submissive or dominant at Slave’s request, and to give adequate notification before farting in the bed.
Slave, repeat after me: I, Slave to the Mattress, promise to tell Cold Cuts to go to hell when he asks me to obey , to be understanding of his addiction with the hash, and to learn that velvet tongue technique as soon as possible.
May I have the handcuffs? These handcuffs are a symbol of Cold Cut’s and Slave’s sentence to life. A life of never ending trails of shiggy and whining hashers and twisted ankles and explaining to civilians what hashing is and separating hash socks from white socks and most importantly, beer and down-downs.
Please handcuff the couple.
A note for the fools! (song) Drink it down, down, down, etc . . .
By the power invested to me by the State of Drunkenness, I now mispronounce you harrier and harriette. You may tongue the bitch. Mazeltof!
______
WEDDING CEREMONY # 3
Contributed by Spinal Tap, White House HHHH
Dearly Besotted,
We’ve cum here (cum, who said cum, I’ll have some of that) today to do a whole lot of drinking, partying, and making asses of ourselves. As part of the last activity, two of our favorite people have asked to be joined in unholy mattress monkey in front of their friends and co-degenerates. As one of the senior members of the DC area Hashing community (not counting DCH3, of course), I have willingly volunteered to make this ceremony as meaningless as possible.
I am being disably assisted today by my chorus of “AMEN” sayers. Please feel free to join in at the appropriate (or inappropriate, for that matter) times. AMEN!! (The chorus consisted of 8 people in choir robes, which I had purchased at a local thrift shop for about $2 each, just in case we might need them sometime)
(I read the new ‘prayer’ here…”Our beer, which art in barrels, etc”)
As we come into this world unclothed, and without sin or shame, it is my firm belief that every important occasion in life should be celebrated in the same fashion. Let’s face it…all of us have had very important occasions in life where clothing was totally irrelevant and unwanted. AMEN!! Therefore, will the happy couple please come forward and remove all your clothing? (You don’t really have to, but I thought I’d give it a try). (Actually, the groom started to, but we stopped him before it got ugly)
(remove ice bag from cooler, place on top.)
Please be seated. AMEN!!
Please state your names and who made you cum. OOPS – that’s for virgins, so you definitely don’t have to do that. AMEN!!
The lucky [groom]. AMEN!! The not-quite-so-lucky AMEN!! Harriette is [bride].. AMEN!!
As I understand it, [bride] found [groom] lying in a muddy gutter after a normal Hash run and took pity on him. Unfortunately there was a water shortage at the time, so in order to clean off the mud she performed a ‘golden shower’ on his filthy body. He knew then that this was the woman for him AMEN!! After all, a woman whose piss tastes like Milwaukee’s Best Light doesn’t cum along every day AMEN!!
Although they realize that this joining together means the end of freely groping members of the opposite sex (ogling and leering are still OK), they have resolved to end each future Hash by going home together and getting lucky. AMEN!! AMEN!!
At this time I would like to quote from a book dealing with the pure love a man and woman can have for each other. Insert a reading from some book or other here (something you find in a little storefront shop, with painted over windows). Finish with AMEN!! AMEN!!
[groom] do you take [bride]. to be your wedded bimbo, for better or worse, on the rag or available, on bad hair days and good, through shiggy and pavement, at least until the rabbit dies? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!) And do you also promise to be always sexually satisfying, whether dominant or submissive? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!) And do you also promise to be understanding and supportive of all her whims, unless they interfere with Hashing? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)
[bride]. do you take [groom] to be your wedded stud muffin, for better or worse, whether clean or covered with shiggy, at least until he starts to need Viagra? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!) And do you promise to be patient and give him all the help he needs to achieve tumescence (that’s a hard-on, for you illiterates), even when it’s frozen from sitting on the ice? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!) And do you promise to aid and abet his Hashing activities, and to provide bail money when necessary? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!) And do you promise to not bring home any blue dresses with cum stains on them? (Pause for “I do”, and AMEN!!)
[groom] repeat after me. I, [groom], (groom repeats words) … promise to love and lust after [bride]. …through good trails and bad…through deserts and swamps…on or off the ice…in tents or in motel rooms…until she can’t stand me any more. AMEN!!
[bride], repeat after me. I, [bride].,…promise to treat [groom] as well as I treat my dog…to welcome penetration at any time or in any place…to keep my teeth smooth…to spit discreetly…and to ensure there is always beer in the refrigerator… until someone better comes along. AMEN!!
The happy couple has requested a double ring ceremony…may I have the rings, please (cheap plastic handcuffs)? These rings are a symbol of the union of [groom] and [bride]. These rings are round, and remind them to do a lot of running around in circles, particularly on trail. As these rings join their bodies together, so does this ceremony join their souls together (not to mention heels and ankles). AMEN!!
May we have a beer for the lucky twosome? (Sing “Why Were They Born”)
By the power invested in me by the [think of something, like the name of the appropriate Hash], I now pronounce you Hasher and Bimbo. You may tongue each other if you so desire. AMEN!!
You may now rise. Hashers and Harriettes, please form an aisle of honor for our happy couple. (pause…I and the AMEN chorus, get at the front of the aisle). Long and Chiquita, please honor us by proceeding down this aisle. Hashers and Harriettes, do as I do.
Form an honor guard of beer spewers. As they pass, spew beer (lightly) over them.
______
WEDDING CEREMONY # 4
Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH, Japan
Dearly intoxicated, we are gathered here in the presence of the Pack to bond this hasher and this harriette in unholy mattress moaning.
RoxxOff, do you take this harriette for better or for worse, on the rag and in health, on bad hair days and good, to have and to hash with until the sake runs out?
(Hasher answers) “I do”
Sweet PeeCock, do you take this hasher for better or for worse, in vomit and in shiggy, with his farts and sake-breath, to have and to hash with until he can’t get it up any more?
(Harriette answers) “I do”
Please raise your wine coolers and repeat after me. With this whine, I thee wed.
(Both) “With this whine, I thee wed.”
Let’s cut the crap and jump into bed.
(Both) “Let’s cut the crap and jump into bed.”
By the power invested to me by the State of Drunkenness, I now mispronounce you slave and master.
A note for the bonded! (song) Here’s to the bonded,… etc. etc.
You may now moon the pack.
______
WEDDING CEREMONY # 5
Contributed by Half Pipe, Los Alamos HHH
Gulpable: Judge
STD: Handcuffer
CPA: Bubbles
Gams: to give Gulpable the robe
Music: Entrance: Stripper music
Exit: Taps
Dearly Intoxicated,
HOLD ON! HOLD ON! CPA hands shot to Gulpable.
We are gathered here in the presence of the Pack to bind this hasher and this harriette in unholy mattress moaning.
We come to celebrate the end of their wanking ways and to cheer in the joy of sex outside masturbation.
TO THE COUPLE: Please state your names and who made you made you cum. OOPS-That’s for virgins, so you definitely don’t have to do that. AMEN!!
As I understand it, Smack found Zipper impaled on a parking meter with a big grin on her face. He knew then that this was the woman for him. AMEN!!
Although they realize that this joining together means the end of freely groping members of the opposite sex (ogling and leering are still OK), they have resolved to end each future hash by going home together and getting lucky. AMEN!!
Smack the Monkey, do you take Help Me With My Zipper for better or for worse, with skinned knees or curvaceous calves, bad hair days and good, to have and to hash with from this day forward or until at least the rabbit dies? Do you also promise to be understanding and supportive of all her whims, unless they interfere with hashing?
SMACK: I do.
Help Me With My Zipper, do you take Smack the Monkey for better or for worse, in vomit and in shiggy, with monkey wings or textured Trojans, to have and to hash with from this day forward or until at least the rabbit dies? Do you also promise to be understanding and supportive of all his whims, unless they interfere with hashing?
ZIPPER: I do.
May I have the handcuffs, please? These handcuffs are a symbol of Smack and Zipper’s sentence to life. A life of never ending trails, of shiggy, of whining hashers, of twisted ankles, of explaining to non-hashers what hashing is, of separating hash socks from white socks and most importantly of all, beer and down-downs.
To STD: Please handcuff the couple
Smack and Zipper, please raise your beers and repeat after me. With this beer, I thee wed.
(BOTH): With this beer, I thee wed.
By the power invested in me by the State of Drunkenness, I now pronouce you Mr. and Mrs. Help Me With My Monkey. APPLAUSE! You may tongue each other if you so desire. AMEN!!
CPA hands out the bubbles.
WEDDING SONG
Melody – Amazing Grace
Written by Sauer Krotch for the Orlando Hash wedding of Wild Oats and Oatmeal; should be adaptable for others
Today we wed to (name) to (name),
We heard them say “I do.”
Give it your best, for the next forty years,
But first drink down your beers.
WE DON’T WANT TO HEAR A SONG . . .
Melody – I Don’t Want to Grow Up (Toys R Us jingle)
Contributed by Soft Taco, Montgomery HHH
Harriers to harriettes:
We don’t want to hear a song we’ve already heard,
Those lines that rhyme you sing in time along with a chime.
You’ve never worked in Chicago, that’s all bullshit
So come on hasher show us your tits!
Harriettes to harriers:
We don’t want to hear a song we’ve already heard,
Those lines that rhyme you sing in time along with a chime.
You’ve never worked in Chicago, you’ve got no class
So come on hasher show us your ass!
WE’RE HERE BECAUSE . . .
Melody – Auld Lang Syne
We’re here because we’re here,
Because we’re here,
Because we’re here,
We’re here because we’re here,
Because we’re here,
Because we’re here . . .
WE’VE GOT VIRGINS
Melody – Frere Jacques
By Mud Fucker and Greatful Head, Bay City HHH
We’ve got virgins,
We’ve got virgins,
At our hash,
At our hash,
Gonna get’em drunked up,
Gonna get’em fucked up,
Down the hatch,
Up the ass,
So drink it down, down, down . . .
WHAT A WANK
Melody – William Tell Overture
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank,wank,
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, wank, wank.
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank, wank, wank, wank wank.
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, what a wank, wank, wank,
What a wank, what a wank, wank, wank . . .
Alternates:
Get a life, get a life, get a life, life, life . . .
What a fuck, what a fuck, what a fuck you are . . .
WHERE WERE YOU LAST WEEK?
Melody – Where Oh Where Were You Last Night (from Hee Haw)
by Preparation H, Ft Eustis HHH
Where, Oh Where were you last week?
Why did you make us hash all alone?
You Fat Lazy Bastards, You weren’t even here.
So we fucked all the virgins and drank all the Beer.
Down, Down, Drink it all Down
Drink it all Down, Drink all of that Beer
You Fat Lazy Bastards, You weren’t even here.
So we fucked all the virgins and drank all the Beer.
Drink it down, down, down, down . . .
WHY ARE WE WAITING?
Melody – Come Let Us Adore Him
Why are we waiting,
Could be fornicating (masturbating, etc),
Oh, why are we waiting,
So fucking long, etc . . .
WHY WAS HE BORN SO BEAUTIFUL?
Melody – Itself
Why was he born so beautiful?
Why was he born at all?
He’s no fuckin’ use to anyone,
He’s no bloody use at all.
They say he’s a joy to his mother,
But he’s a pain in the asshole to me,
He’s fresh as a daisy,
He drives me crazy,
So drink it down, down, down . . .
WHY WAS SHE BORN A BITCH?
Melody – 1st verse: Itself
2nd verse: My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
Why was she born so beautiful?
Why was she born a bitch?
She’s no bloody use to anyone,
She’s only got one tit.
She ought to be publicly pissed on,
She ought to be publicly shot,
She ought to be tied to a urinal,
And left there to fester and rot.
So drink it down, down, down . . .
YANKEE DOODLE (two versions)
Melody – I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy
Yankee Doodle he’s a dandy,
Yankee Doodle do or die,
A real live asshole from the USA,
Piss on the Fourth of July.
Yank my doodle, it’s a dandy,
Yankee Doodle zip your fly,
Yankee Doodle limped to London,
Wanking off his pony,
You are that Yankee Doodle guy.
______
Yankee doodle he’s/she’s a dandy,
He’s/She’s a hasher till he/she dies,
A real live asshole from the USA,
Pissed on my most other guys/girls.
Yank his/her doodle, it’s a dandy,
Yank his/her doodle, zip his/her fly,
Yankee doodle ran the trail
Wanking off his/her doodle,
You are that yanking doodle guy/girl.
YOU ARE OUR ______
Melody – You Are My Sunshine
Contributed by Slimie Limie, Kobe HHH, Japan
You are our _______, our only ______,
You make us happy when skies are bleak.
You’ll never know ______, how much we like you,
Please keep coming to Hash ev’ry week.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
YOU’RE STUPID, YOU’RE STUPID
Melody – Chant
Composed by Yorkie Porkie, City HHH
You’re stupid, you’re stupid You’re really fucking dumb If it wasn’t for your mother You’d be a stain of cum!
ZICKY-ZACKY
The purpose of the zicky-zacky chant is to point out breaches in circle etiquette – members of the circle surround the offender and repeat chant loudly:
Zicky-zacky, zicky-zacky,
Hoy, Hoy, Hoy!
Zicky-zacky, zicky-zacky,
Hoy, Hoy, Hoy!
Zicky-zacky, zicky-zacky,
Hoy, Hoy, Hoy!
. . . and so on until offender completes a down-down . . . alternatively, the zicky-zacky chant can be performed whenever someone screws up a verse in a hash song (of course, the offending singer must immediately do a down-down while the pack chants). There are several substitutes for “zicky-zacky” if you get bored with the basic chant, as in:
Shiggy shaggy, shiggy shaggy,
Oi, Oi, Oi!
Motorcycle, motorcycle,
Vroom, Vroom, Vroom!
Locomotive, locomotive,
Choo, Choo, Choo!
Helicopter, helicopter,
Whirl, Whirl, Whirl! (or Whop, Whop, Whop!)
Submarine, submarine,
Glug, Glug, Glug!
Motorcar, motorcar,
Beep, Beep, Beep!
Telephone, telephone,
Ring, Ring, Ring!
Penis, penis,
Cum, Cum, Cum!
ZULU WARRIOR
Melody – Itself
Hash version by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Ole, zooma zooma zooma,
Ole, zooma zooma chief,
Drink it down you Zulu warrior,
Drink it down you Zulu chief,
Drink it down you Zulu warrior,
Drink it down you Zulu chief, chief, chief!
______
Ole, zooma zooma zooma,
Ole, zooma zooma chief,
Drink it down you poofta warrior,
Drink it down you poofta chief,
Drink it down you poofta warrior,
Drink it down you poofta queef, queef, queef!
——————————————————————————–
HASH ANTHEMS
A Hasher’s Life for Me
Agana HHH Chant
Aloha HHH Anthem
Angeles City Hashional Anthem
Austin Hash Song
Ballad of Rocket Shitty HHH
Boatie HHH Hymn
Cape Cod HHH Hymn
Copenhagen Full Moon Howlers Anthem
Copenhagen HHH Anthem
Corpus Christi Bay Area Larrikins HHH Anthem
Dayton HHH Theme Song
Emerald Coast Hash House Harriers
Fort Eustis HHH Anthem
Founders’ Blitz
God Bless the El Paso Hash
God Save the King
Gypsies Hash
Hasher’s Rocky Top
Hashin’ in New Orleans
Hogtown
Hong Kong Prayer
Men of the H, H, 3
Mother Hash
Mount Vernon HHH Road Song
Ode to Corpus Christi Hashers
Pikes Peak Hashers
Richmond HHH Song
Shanghai HHH Song
Sluts from Lutz
Song of the Bandar Seri Begawan Hashers
Squannacook River Runners Anthem
Story of the Boston Hashers
Subic Hashional Anthem
There is a Hash in New Orleans
There is a House in Nittany Valley
Tokyo Hash Song
Warriers Had a Meeting
We’re From Dayton
Wet Spot’s Wail
White House HHH Anthem
White Sands of Panama City HHH
Wiregrass HHH Down-Down Song
A HASHER’S LIFE FOR ME
Melody – A Pirate’s Life for Me
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
A hashing life is a really good life
A shiggying partying hell raising life
Drink up you hashers drink up
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
The Okinawans throw a good hash
Prelubes a gas ’cause you get really trashed
Drink up you Oki’s drink up
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
The Fat Boys are here & we’re friendly ole scamps
We drink till we drop & we never leave camp
Drink up to Zippy drink up
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
Our bimbos are beauties & quite fancy free
So show off your titties & cute little kitties
Drink up you bimbos drink up
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
Thank you for having us here in your town
We’ll stay here till the beer is all gone
Drink up you wankers drink up
On on, on on a hasher’s life for me
On on on on gimme a beer or three
AGANA (GUAM) HASH HOUSE HARRIER CHANT
Contributed by Babble-On
Cocksucker, motherfucker, eat a bag of shit,
Cunt hair, douche bag, bite your mother’s tit.
We’re the Agana Hash, all the others suck,
Agana Hash, Agana Hash, rah, rah, fuck!
ALOHA HHH ANTHEM
Melody – Choral Stanza, Beethoven’s 9th Symphony
Adapted by Flying Booger from the anthem of the Lyngby HHH, Denmark . . . a good song to get the circle going
Come Aloha Hash House Harriers,
Get your asses in high gear,
Whiners, walkers, F-R-B-ers,
Gather ’round these mugs of beer.
Let the hashing spirit enter,
Ev’ry wanker here around,
Down-downs right and left and center
As we hashers chug ’em down.
ANGELES CITY HASHIONAL ANTHEM
Melody – Rocky Mountain High (John Denver)
Composed by Mu-Sick
She was born in a grass hut, in a field in Cebu.
Destined to a life of poverty.
But at the age of thirteen, she had a change of heart
And moved to downtown Angeles.
CHORUS:
Where the Balibago Mount Arayat High
I’ve seen it raining pesos in the sky.
Sit around Fields Avenue and screw the TDY.
Mt Arayat High, Balibago
Mt Arayat High, Balibago
She hopped in a jeepney with a stump-broke carabao
To a place she’d heard about about before
She’s learned to pick up pesos from a bottle of San Miguel
Working overtime giving blowjobs in Astro Park.
She heard the pay was better down in Subic Bay.
Especially when the fleet was in.
So, she hopped a victory liner all the way to Olongapo
Where she learned to do the banana-cutter show
She’s learned to do the circuit from Kim Hae to Taegu
Keeping Team Spirit troops alive.
She’s a great tent heater, and she blows without kimche breath
All the boys along the DMZ
She married a lieutenant and got a visa to the States.
The hope and dream of all the bar girls here.
But after a winter in Minot, she froze her little twat
And caught the freedom bird back to Angeles.
AUSTIN HASH SONG
Melody – Redneck Mother
(contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4, probably composed by Austin hashers)
Start with background of “ba doom, ba doom, ba doom, boom, boom, boom . . .”
I brought a newboot out to meet the gang,
He said he needed a crowd with which to hang.
He ran like a rabbit out on the false trails,
By the time we got to the beer he was draggin’ his tail.
Well it’s cross the creek and up the other side,
Through some poison oak, bull nettle by my side.
Well it’s off the road and off into some deep dark woods,
Running up and down hills just to get them goods.
Well you just might see a llama along the way,
Or ford a dangerous river, who’s to say.
But for all us who knows, to bring some dry clothes,
Take a short cut through the creek to where the beer flows.
Well,
H, is for the hare that just laid the trail,
A, is for the soil we hash on – AUSTIN!
S, that’s for Shiner,
H, is for us hounds,
E, is for everyone wearing,
R, UBBERS!
BALLAD OF ROCKET SHITTY HHH
Melody – Ballad of Davy Crockett
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Born on mounty-sano in Alabam
Craziest hash in the whole damned land
Runnin’ in the woods so’s we knew ev’ry tree
Went to a bar when we was only three.
Rocket, Rocket Shitty, King of the hash Frontier!
COPENHAGEN FULL MOON HOWLERS ANTHEM
Melody – Sejle Opad Aaen (traditional Danish melody)
Composed by Bogey, CFMHHHH
We are the full m00n ho-o-o-o-o-ow lers
Sly mid-night prow-lers are we,
We “m00n” the spooks,
Drink wit-ches’ brew,
‘Cause we’re sons of bit-ches just like you,
We live by the ca-nine co-o-o-o-o-o-odex
Hear up, we’ll teach it to you:
“If you can’t eat
or screw it, then
Piss on it, Piss on it, once a-gain!”
For we are the full m00n ho-o-o-o-o-ow lers
HO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-WL
BOATIE HHH HYMN
Melody – The Halls of Montezuma
Contributed by Elephant Man, Katherine HHH
On the North shores of Antarctica
Where the yanks have never been
Lies the carcass of a bloody great polar bear
Shagged to death by a Hash House team
We are the perverts of society
The likes of us you’ve never seen
We are a pack of loud mouth bastards
We are the Boatie Hash House Team
Well we have a reputation
For molesting little boys
For abusing old age pensioners
And stealing kiddies toys
We are the perverts of society
The likes of us you’ve never seen
We are a pack of loud mouth bastards
We are the Boatie Hash House Team
We don’t climb many mountains
And we don’t cross many streams
We don’t have pretty girlfriends
We just live off our wet dreams.
We are the perverts of society
The likes of us you’ve never seen
We are a pack of loud mouth bastards
We are the BOATIE HASH HOUSE TEAM
CAPE COD HHH HYMN
Melody – Botany Bay
Contributed (composed?) by Mr. Bean
I came to Cape Cod in devotion,
I came to Cape Cod for the cash,
I came to Cape Cod for vacation,
And wound up on the Cape Cod Hash.
CHORUS:
On-in and drink down you bastards
Sing on-in and drink down they say
Sing on-in and drink down you bastards
Or tip it all over your head.
The Hash runs through rivers and valleys
Up sand dunes and through garbage dumps
‘Cross marshes and cranberry paddies
To the sound of the dreaded “on-on.”
The Hash is a barrel of madness
A mishmash of sweat and travail
And yet I admit with great gladness
I look forward to the next e-mail.
COPENHAGEN HHH ANTHEM
Melody – Pomp & Circumstance
Composed by Sodbuster
Come on, Viking Wankers,
Lift your beers and shout
We are Copenhashers
What we’ve got, we flaunt.
Close the narrow circle, gather round the beer.
Hashing, wanking drinking,
That is why we’re here,
Hashing, wanking, drinking
That is why we’re here.
CORPUS CHRISTI BAY AREA LARRIKINS HHH ANTHEM
Melody – Sesame Street Theme
By Guamarrhea Balls, CCBA Larrikins HHH
Windy day,
Blowin’ the chad away,
On my way to where the nec-tar’s sweet.
Can you tell me how to get,
How to get to Leopard Street?
Live or pre-lay,
Trail runs a-long the Bay.
Selena’s Shrine,
That’s where we’ll meet!
But can you tell me how to get,
How to get to Leopard Street?
Larrikin hares will try to hide,
Harriettes’ legs will open wide,
For wanking hashers like you –
For wanking hashers like you.
Shitty Trail on a,
Windy day,
Blowin’ the chad away
On my way to where the nec-tar’s sweet
Can you tell me how to get,
How to get to Leopard Street?
How to get to Leopard Street . . .
DAYTON HHH THEME SONG
Melody – Army Song (Over Hill, Over Dale . . .)
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
Searching hard, to no avail. Where the hell’s the fucking trail. We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
Heaven knows, we’re half wits. We just want to see your tits. We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
We just want to say, hey, DECOC all the way. Naked fire jumping makes us hot. (scream here) We’re a drunken crew, and we know Steamer too. We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
EMERALD COAST HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Melody – Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, ECHHH; contributed by M.I.A.
In the panhandle of Florida, there’s a group that loves to hash.
They’re from the Emerald Coast, as their T-shirts boast and they can sure throw a hell of a bash.
They got a hundred or two hash house harriers, and they like to have a lot of fun.
They eat their red beans and rice, while drinking beer as cold as ice and they have even been known to run.
CHORUS:
And they’re the Emerald Coast Hash House Harriers,
They’ve been known to run through any barriers,
‘Cause they’re as crazy as the day is long,
And known to show their ass or sing a song.
It’s hares away and off they’re running, dropping flour from a plastic sack.
They mark the intersections, with hash in all directions so they can split and bring together the pack.
The FRBs are shouting “On On!” as the pack asks the question “Are You?”
They claim they’re on the right trail, and the check is in the mail, because a virgin missed a Check Back Two.
They’re getting closer to the On Home, a P-Check brings the pack in tight.
Just a little more shiggy, but they’re squealing like a piggy ’cause the Beer Near is in sight!
After running for an hour, through the nastiest parts around,
The hares all wail, that they have laid the perfect trail, but their reward will be a double Down Down.
And the night turns into morning, they have acted like a bunch of fools.
They took short-cuts, and showed their tits and butts, but that’s okay because there are NO RULES!
FORT EUSTIS HHH ANTHEM
Melody – ???
We’re the Fort Eustis hashers
We’re glad to be here
We’ll shortcut your trails
And drink all your beer!
We’ll fuck all your women
And puke in your car
We’re the Fort Eustis hashers
The best hash by far!
FOUNDERS’ BLITZ
Melody – Puttin’ on the Ritz
By Great Salt Lick, Long Beach HHH
If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to
Why don’t you do a Founder’s Blitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Dressed up like a twenty dollar hasher
Trying hard to be a trashy flasher
Fashion Smasher
If you’d like to see some humongous tits
Why don’t you go where AREOLA sitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Drinking at the Long Beach Airport Prop Room
With the likes of HASH BUM, RAT’S ASS and BROOM
Fruit of the Loom
If you’d like to see how AT&T keeps a man
Why don’t yo feel how hard she hitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Hash Balls handed out like penny candy
QPC is feeling pretty randy
(Handy dandy)
If you’d like to see how we get new boots
Why don’t you see how quick DICK quitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
CRABS and PIC are mounting on the front bar
One more Kodak moment has gone too far
Hardee Har Har
If you’re bored and you would like to SNEEK-A-PEEK
Why don’t you view our glitzy clitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Food and drink consumed by all involved here
DANCES surely did not need that last beer
Human Pinball
If you’re drunk and starting to feel sick
No doubt the night will be the pitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
HI SPEED’s van was full of Taco Bellers
POKEY, NIPPLE, SALT and all the fellers
Steller yellers
If you go and eat all that crap you’ll find
Your toilet full of wicked shitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Party all night long in Room 446
’twas the home of EZ, SADDLE, and 3DICKS
Hell of a mix
If you go to that room you will witness
Drunks with no beer to drink throwing fitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
One more year going down in a blaze of glory
SMACK may just appear on that show “Maury”
Gory story
If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to
Why don’t you do a Founder’s Blitz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
Puttin’ on the Ritz
GOD BLESS THE EL PASO HASH
Melody – God Bless the USA (Lee Greenwood)
Composed by Butt Darts
If tomorrow all the things were gone I’d hashed for all my life,
And I had to start again with just one run and a new life,
I’d thank my lucky stars to be hashing here today,
‘Cause the hash still stands for freedom, so let’s just masturbate!
CHORUS:
And I’m proud to be a Hasher,
Where each hash I pay a fee,
And I won’t forget when you all lied,
to give that Hashit to me,
And I’ll gladly stand up, nude with you, every hashing day,
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt, I love this hash,
God bless the EPH.
From the hills of Malaysia, to the mountains we can see,
Across the Rio Grand River, they have bestiality,
The Harlot goes down on all of us, and we don’t have to pay,
Well, there’s pride in every El Paso Hasher, and it’s time to hash today!
GOD SAVE THE KING
Melody – God Save the Queen (My Country Tis of Thee)
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
All Gypsies hear our call! Raise glass and stand up tall! Join us and sing. For drunken revelry, And no more chastity, We drink our toast to thee: ”God Save the King!”
THE GYPSIES HASH
Melody – Monster Mash
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
I was walking through the park on Halloween.
When I beheld a drunken scene.
A band of Gypsies had gathered there,
And suddenly without a care . . .
(They did the Hash) They did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) They were drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
(ahh oooooo) They had their Sacred Missal, books one and two,
(ahh oooooo) And their tasty Bucket caught more than a few,
(ahh oooooo) And there presiding over this crazy thing,
(ahh oooooo) Was Rongjon their beloved Gypsy King!
(They did the Hash) They did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) They were drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
(ahh oooooo) Now I followed carefully along their trail.
(ahh oooooo) To some their antics were beyond the pale.
(ahh oooooo) The Bucket’s delights had my head in a roar,
(ahh oooooo) And Bigfoot’s cooking had me begging for more!
(He did the Hash) I did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) I was drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
Thurston: Mmmm . . . bucket goooood! Bucket goood!
Down Thurston, you impetuous young boy.
Thurston: Bucket goooood . . .
HASHER’S ROCKY TOP
Melody – Rocky Top
By Limpdart, Yongsan Kimchee HHH
Once two hashers climbed ol’ Rocky Top,
Lookin’ for a keg of beer.
Hashers ain’t come down from Rocky Top,
That’s why they’re not here.
Zenning on trail is hard on Rocky Top,
Dirt’s too rocky by far.
That’s why all the hashers on Rocky Top,
Wish they had their cars.
REFRAIN:
Rocky Top you’ll always be,
A shiggy trail to me.
That’s why this Hasher,
Is gonna hash in Seoul City.
Shaggin’ on trail is hard on Rocky Top,
Skinnin’ your knees and ass.
That’s why you, have to find a trail,
With a little grass.
HASHIN’ IN NEW ORLEANS
Melody – Walkin’ to New Orleans
By Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia
I’m hashin in New Orleans.
I’m hashin in New Orleans.
I’m trailin through the shiggy.
Cold and wet but it’s no biggie.
I’m hashin in New Orleans.
I’ve got beers in my hand.
Now ain’t that grand.
New Orleans is my hash.
Now isn’t that a bash.
I’m hashin in New Orleans.
Nothing could be swanker.
Than running with those wankers.
They’ll show you a great time.
When you get there you’ll be fine.
You’ll be hashin in New Orleans.
HOGTOWN
Melody – Downtown (Petula Clark)
By Rambo, cHARLOTtesville HHH
When it’s November you should simply remember, you can always go, HOGTOWN
Kazoo and Shampoo, Lengthy, Saggy and crew, intend to steal from you, HOGTOWN
When we reach the on-in with our tacky dress and ear-rings
Molson Triple-X around the table we are sharing, Give us more booze
The Blue Jays they sucked this year, so let’s forget all our troubles, forget
all our fears and go
HOGTOWN! Follow the chevrons (1) to HOGTOWN!
Freeze off your titties in HOGTOWN! Shrivel your scrotum at HOGTOWN.
HOGTOWN is my kind of town!
“Don’t leave the camp”, oh, that’s what Zippy will rant, when he decides to go,
HOGTOWN
Down, downs are boring, when the whole group is snoring, start the naked dance!
HOGTOWN
We don’t get our money’s worth with lousy kay-nook (2) moola
Hashing in Toronto sucks, don’t let this weekend fool ‘ya, Give us more booze
The band-plays-with-asses-bare, they have forgotten their troubles, forgotten
their cares to play
HOGTOWN! Follow the chevrons to HOGTOWN!
Freeze off your titties in HOGTOWN! Shrivel your scrotum at HOGTOWN.
HOGTOWN is my kind of town!
(1) “Chevrons” are spacing markers in the lanes on the freways leading into Toronto.
(2) Canadians are frequently referred to as canucks, pronounced “kay-nooks.”
HONG KONG PRAYER
Contributed by Harish Pillay, Singapore HHH
Our Brother,
Who art in Bejing,
Xiao Ping be thy name,
United Kingdom gone,
Thy will be done
In Hong Kong
As it is in China.
Give us this day,
Our daily bet,
and forgive us,
Our speculations.
As we forgive those
Who speculate against us.
Lead us not into Communism,
But deliver us,
From Gwailos.
For this is,
The Sovereignty,
The Power of Authority,
Forever and ever,
Chow mein.
MEN OF THE H, H, 3
Melody – ???
Eyes right, foreskins tight,
Cockstands to the front,
We’re the men of the H, H, 3.
We’re in search of fun,
We’re the heroes of the night,
We’d rather fuck than fight,
We’re the men of the H, H, 3.
CHORUS:
Rolling along, rolling along,
By the light of the silvery moon.
Happy is the Hash,
With my finger up her snatch,
By the light of the silvery moon.
Oh, (repeat from beginning)
MOTHER HASH
Melody – ???
(from Kuala Lumpur HHH)
If you’re adventure hungry,
And your yuppie life is sad,
And you’ve a yen to be a jungly,
And leave everything you have,
CHORUS:
You wanna run away,
Sing a song, you wanna get smashed!
And call it a day, come on along,
And join the Mother Hash.
Fifty years we’ve been runnin’,
Jungle, shiggy, and swamp,
Fifty more years we’ll be runnin’,
Happy birthday, On-On-On!
Anybody can join us,
Black, brown, yellow, or blue,
And nobody need feel nervous,
We even take white folks too!
MOUNT VERNON HHH ROAD SONG
Melody – Barney Theme, or This Old Man
Contributed by Roto Router, MV HHH
Orlando (name of visited hash),
We hashed there,
Mount Vernon Hash House Harriers (visiting hash name)!
We fucked all the women,
Buggered all the men,
Drank all the beer,
And we’ll do it all again!
ODE TO CORPUS CHRISTI HASHERS
Melody – A Rambling Melody
Composed by Cockshot, Corpus Christi HHH
Two hashers GUAM and TWAT were drinking by a ditch
One called the other one a dirty Son-of-a-
HARELIP DOG had a dog and what a dog was he
He gave it to BLUE BALLS to keep him company
He taught it, he taught it, he taught it how to jump
It jumped right up CHEMO’s underwear and bit him on the
COCKSHOT, tell you what, put beer in your glass
If you don’t like my story- you can kiss my
Ask me no questions I’ll tell you no lies,
If you ever get hit with a bucket of shit,
Be sure to close your eyes!
PIKES PEAK HASHERS
Melody – Son of a Gambolier
Adapted from “The Pioneers” by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Us Pikes Peak hashers are dirty flashers,
We piss through leather britches,
We wipe our ass with broken glass,
Us horny sons of bitches.
When cunt is rare, we fuck a bear,
We knife him if he snitches,
We knock our cocks against the rocks,
Us horny sons of bitches.
We take our ass upon the grass,
In bushes or in ditches,
Our two-pound dinks are full of kinks,
Us horny sons of bitches.
Without remorse, we fuck a horse,
And beat him if he twitches,
Our two-foot pricks are full of nicks,
Us horny sons of bitches.
To make a mule stand for the tool,
We beat him with hickory switches,
We use our pricks for walking sticks,
Us horny sons of bitches.
Great joy we reap from cornholing sheep,
In barns, or bogs, or ditches,
Nor give a damn if it be a ram,
Us horny sons of bitches.
We walk around, prick to the ground,
And kick it if it itches,
And if it throbs, we scratch it with cobs,
Us horny sons of bitches.
We masturbate from morn to late,
Till our bloody foreskin twitches,
Next morning at ten we begin again,
Us horny sons of bitches.
At Pikes Peak, we got no fears,
We do not stop at trifles,
We hang our balls on the walls,
And shoot at them with rifles.
We scrounge a cow and care not how,
The shit sticks to our britches,
And fetch a bull and fill him full,
Us horny sons of bitches.
We fuck our wives with butcher knives,
And keep their cunts in stitches,
But VD makes it hurt to pee,
Us horny sons of bitches.
RICHMOND HHH SONG
Melody – Dixie
Contributed by Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia
I wish I was with the Hash in Richmond.
Hashes there are really bitchin.
Hash away, hash away, hash away, Richmond hash.
In the Richmond hash where I was named.
Running shiggy trails, drunk and lamed.
Hash away, hash away, hash away Richmond Hash.
Oh I wish I was in Richmond.
Away away.
In Richmond land I’ll take my stand,
And run true trail in Richmond.
Away, away, away down South in Richmond.
Away, away, away down South in Richmond.
SHANGHAI HHH SONG
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
By Tree Humper, Richmond HHH, Virginia
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the running of the Hash.
We are Hashers, we’re from Shanghai and the trails there are a bash.
We will run and drink and fall down till we run out of our cash.
The Hashers are on trail.
On, on, Shanghai Hashers.
On, on, Shanghai Hashers.
On, on, Shanghai Hashers.
Shanghai’s on true trail.
SLUTS FROM LUTZ
A Poem of Unestimable Love, Sincerity, and Devotion
By StumpSlayer, Carolina Trash
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, I hate your guts,
You’ve brought me to my knees.
You’re everything a man would want,
You’re beauty, poise, and sleeze.
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, you drive me nuts,
Your love may make me dead.
I’m just a moth drawn to the flame,
KrotchKiten, SealedLips, CheeseSpread!
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, you give me coconuts,
That’s far worse than blueballs,
I’d laundry suck your underwear,
And chew your UnderAlls!
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, it may draw yucks,
You’re my refuge from my strife,
Please put your legs around my neck,
Be my new leash on life!
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, this poem sucks,
But not as well as you.
Grind your highheels into my chest,
While I admire the view !
Oh, Sluts from Lutz, had I more bucks,
And could control the weather,
I’d rearrange the alphabet,
And put U and I together !
SONG OF THE BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN HASHERS (BRUNEI)
Melody – All Things Bright and Beautiful
Contributed by Teats de Swamp
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
We like to eat them all
Each little beast that staggers
Each little bird that sings
We eat their tiny bodies
We eat their little wings
Each little frog we fondle
We’d love to chew and crunch
Each little chick we cuddle
We’d rather have for lunch
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
We like to eat them all
SQUANNACOOK RIVER RUNNERS ANTHEM
Chant
Contributed by Brett Hall
Squannacook once, Squannacook twice
Holy jumpin’ Jesus Christ
Rim-ram, God-damn,
Son of a bitch, shit!
THE STORY OF THE BOSTON HASHERS
Melody – Charlie on the MTA (Kingston Trio)
Contributed by Rob Basford, Boston HHH
Oh . . . let me tell you a story about the Boston Hashers
They’ve been here for twenty-four years,
Each week they run on flour through shiggy for an hour
In an effort to find a few beers!
CHORUS:
But do we ever complain, no we never complain,
From whining we refrain (‘cept for “Rectal”)
We may run forever in the streets of Boston
For the beer and shiggy terain.
Now “Watergate” she was, once the greatest grand-mattress,
’cause she bitches, she moans, and she . . . shits,
She’ll slam down on the phone because she has PMS syndrome,
But we love her for her really big . . . HEART!
Now “Sweet Molasses” has the cutest of asses,
A nicer one you’ll ne-ver find,
When her buttocks wiggle . . . it makes my old boy giggle
That’s why I like to come from behind!
Well all . . . night . . . long . . . “Shine On” waits at the station
Crying “what will be-come of me?”
How . . . can . . . I . . . afford to see my boyfriend in Roxbury
Or my cousins way out in . . . Chel-sea!
Now every Boston virgin will hear us all uh urgin’
To tell us . . . with who you came,
Then you’ll hear “Rectal” holler, “Give me your ten dollars!”
It’s no wonder how he got his name!
While “Fat One’s” a singin’ and we’re all here a drinkin’
I’ve been thinking it’s been a great day.
Then a voice . . . cries out in a very load shout,
“I’m ‘Rectal’ and you all must pay!”
Now with the circle hash . . . re-spect is what we expect
On private . . . parties we frown,
So if you can’t shut up then we’ll fill up your cu-up
And make you drink it . . . DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!
When the Hare is “Friar Fuck”, we’re . . . all shit out of lu-uck
He doesn’t know his flora at all,
So best you be ready to cut with a machete,
Through Poison Ivy ten feet tall!
Well then there’s “Ski Bobbit” who sets hashes like a hobbit,
They’re difficult but they . . . are . . . fun,
Three four hours gone . . . SEO makes the On-On shouting
“Who fucking set this run?!”
Well “Piece of Tail” waits, at the Scollay Square station,
Every day at quarter past two,
And through the open window hands . . . “White Flash” a down-down
As the train goes rumbling through!
Now Boston’s got a thriller who’d be a lady killer,
Except he’s hard on female e-gos,
‘Cause when we grab his member, he DOESN’T REMEMBER!
It’s Narcoleptic Romeo . . .
When French Tickler wants to pass, with great legs and ass
Male hashers follow with glee
But ‘though she’s fun and silly, you best tuck in your willy
’cause she’s got a man in Par-eee
Now there ain’t no hasher’s greater than our own “Master Waiter”
It’s impossible to get . . . him . . . lost,
Ever since that year when he ran right past the beer,
‘Found a chesty muddy river to cross!
And this is the story of a hasher named “Junky”,
On a tragic and fateful day,
He put ten beers in pocket, kissed his wife and girlfrie-end,
And moved to Califor-nee-i-a!
Well “Meat Pie” . . . she . . . waits, at the Scolly Square station,
Every day at quarter past two,
And through the open window hands . . . “No Hands” a few brew-ews
As the train goes rumbling through!
SUBIC HASHIONAL ANTHEM
Melody – Makin’ Whoopee
Composed by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
There was a hasher, of forty-five,
Not much to look at, but he’s alive,
He’s a disaster, he’s our grand master,
When hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.
There was a sailor, who fell in love,
He met the girl, he was dreamin’ of,
But he wouldn’t marry’er, she’s a clap carrier,
So now he’s hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.
There was an ensign, who liked to smile,
When thinkin’ of down-downs, durin’ her last mile,
She chugs beer better, in Barrio Barretta,
When she’s hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.
There was a hasher, who was in distress,
Till he biblically knew our, grand mistress,
He’s her spiritual advisor, she’s his appetizer,
When hashin’, runnin’, drinkin’, oo-oo-oh.
THERE IS A HASH IN NEW ORLEANS
Melody – The House of the Rising Sun
Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, Emerald Coast HHH; contributed by M.I.A.
There is a hash in New Orleans,
They throw a great party each year,
With strays and gays in wild parades,
And Po’ Boys with Dixie beer.
Grand Masters, tell your hashers,
Take your whistles and go,
‘Cause Cajuns there, are rednecks and queers,
They take you on blow for blow.
The only thing a hasher needs,
Is a butt plug and a mug,
One to keep queers out of their rears,
The other so they can chug.
The virgins show up early,
They drink, pass out, and are through,
The experienced hashers cum later,
And cover the virgins in goo.
As hashers get up in the morning,
Most of them wish they were dead,
There’s a little man with a hammer,
Banging inside of their heads.
Now the moral of our story,
Mardi Gras is a blast,
From the Emerald Coast, we propose a toast,
Merci, with our tits and ass.
THERE IS A HOUSE IN NITTANY VALLEY
Melody – House of the Rising Sun
There is a house in Nittany Valley,
They call the Harriers,
And it’s been the salvation of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, I’m there.
My Mother was Inferior,
An Ann Arbor harriette,
My father was the Reverend Poon Tang,
A Chemical Waste hasher yet.
Now the only thing a hasher needs,
Is a shag bag and a beer,
The only time that he is satisfied,
Is when the beer is near.
Oh Mother, tell your children,
To do what I did dare,
To live their lives in sin and ecstasy,
As a Hash House Harrier.
With one foot on the beer check,
The other foot on the trail,
I’m going back to the apres,
To chase after bimbo tail.
Well, there is a house in Nittany Valley,
They call the Harriers,
And it’s been the salvation of many a poor boy,
And God, I know, I’m there.
TOKYO HASH SONG
Melody – The Irish Rover
I flew into Tokyo, an expat so neat,
Some boozy old hashers I happened to meet,
I asked to go hashing, they answered me “Nay,
For wimps such as you we can find any day.”
CHORUS:
And it’s no nay never, no nay no never no more,
Shall I play the wild hasher, no never no more.
I took out my checkbook all shiny and bright,
The hash cash’s eyes they lit up with delight,
He said, “Gladly we’ll welcome you as one of the rank,
As soon as your check has been cleared by the bank.”
They sold me a T-shirt at exhorbitant price,
Then we went hashing, ’twas ever so nice,
At the last checkpoint we lost three without trace,
And back at the On In we all got shit faced.
I’ve hashed the world over in places far and near,
I fondled the women and drank all the beer,
And now I’m returning with tales for to tell,
Of checkbacks unending and shortcuts through hell.
Now all I have left is a beer-stained T-shirt,
And my Nikes are covered in shiggy and dirt,
My wife she has left me because of the pong,
And this is the end of my terrible song.
WARRIERS HAD A MEETING
Melody – God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
By Dances With Dogs, Oregon HHH
Note: “Warriers” is spelled that way on purpose – F.B.
The Warriers had a meeting
They came from near and far
Some came by jet airliner
Some came from Manly’s bar
And when they were assembled
The Dog the Bitch and Man
Out popped our Cornballer
From the fucking can
One Warrier still was missing
We had tried to shake him loose
But Scrotum came upon us
Swilling in the Goose
There we Warriers gamboled
Without a worry or care
When a crazed and drunken bimbo yelled
“Hey, we’re supposed to hare!”
So to the next bar we rambled
To wile away an hour
When another skanky bimbo yelled
“We forgot the fucking flour!”
As we staggered back to the box
With our legs between our tail
We had spent eight hours in many a bar
But not a second scouting trail
There Lips did loan us a sacred vessel
In which we shall not shit
As long as Battered Woman
And Killer stay away from it
But to those Warrier bimbos
Who we thought we could not top
Throughout the chef’s hat dance
Their laughter would not stop
So then we all decided
With ice shoved up our ass
Monster not Baller is going to come
To our next fucking Warrier hash
Of course we do realize
That for our next Warrier trail
If Monster’s coming with us
Well be setting his fucking bail
But this tale cannot yet end
Without thanks to the Oregon Hash
And kidnap victim number three
Much honor to deep gash
WE’RE FROM DAYTON
Melody – Army Song (Caissons Go Rolling Along)
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
Searching hard, to no avail.
Where the hell’s the fucking trail.
We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
Heaven knows, we’re half wits.
We just want to see your tits.
We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
We just want to say, hey, DECOC all the way.
Naked fire jumping makes us hot. (scream here)
We’re a drunken crew, and we know Steamer too.
We’re from Dayton, so give us a beer.
WET SPOT’S WAIL
Melody – Charlie on the MTA (Kingston Trio)
By Mouthful, Oregon HHH
Let me tell you the story of a Hasher named Wetspots on a tragic and fateful day.
She put flour in her pocket, kissed her best man Stinky and proceeded to lay the trail.
Oh . . .
The . . .
Trail it was abysmal and the checks they were pathetic and the logic just didn’t jibe.
She left beer in Hobo Heaven, thought it actually would stay there and continued to keep on smilin’.
Well the hounds said “It’s outrageous,” and the co-Hare was adamant, that ol’ Wetspots was our blond friend.
But dear Wetspots didn’t get it. Kept on telling us we loved it. Was determined to hash without end.
Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.
She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.
She decided she would greet us at the tavern she would meet us. She was greeted with so much rage.
And after produce row she led us, from the city then she sped us. Now her half-mind was unengaged.
Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.
She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.
After Hal’s the Hounds took action, ’twas a desperate reaction, and they followed the Hares outside.
In four blocks they saw the reason, why the trail it wasn’t pleasin’ as the Hares prepared to drive.
Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.
She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.
Then our most exalted Tyrant stuck his head inside her window and proceeded to grab her keys.
There she sat in all that traffic, and the hounds they were a laughing, ’til her shorts came off over her knees.
Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.
She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.
At . . .
Old . . .
Town . . .
Pizza we assembled for a session that resembled something of a lynch partee.
Each had found his own way back, but we were ne’er again on track for no flour did we see.
It was a Horrid Hash disaster, that will live for ever after in the annals of infamy . . .
As the day when our dear Wetspots grabbed her final sack of flour and she sealed her destiny.
Oh will she ever return, no she’ll never return. She is banned from laying trail.
She may run with us tomorrow, but her Hare we will not follow. She is banned from laying trail.
WHITE HOUSE HHH ANTHEM
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by SmegmaBalls, White House HHH
We’re the White House Hashers
Scum of the earth,
Scourge of crea-a-tion,
God-forsaken-fornicating-son-of-a-bitches,
Found in every whore house,
Drink, suck, and scre-e-ew,
We’re the White House Hash, and we say, fuck, YOU!
WHITE SANDS OF PANAMA CITY HHH
Melody – The Streets of Laredo
By Loud Bloody Bitch, Panama City HHH
As I hashed the white sands of Panama City,
I got lost in the shiggy for days.
I spied some dumb rednecks and asked for directions,
They all had erections and admired my teeth.
I squealed like a punk bitch on his first night in prison,
Now I still run the trail but I’m bowlegged as hell.
So if you are out hashing and hear the call “R U,”
Don’t answer, “I’m searching,” or “on-on true trail,”
Don’t give that lost hasher assistance or pity,
Just hash on through the thorns and the shiggy,
That’s more beer for us at the end of the trail.
WIREGRASS HHH DOWN-DOWN SONG
Melody – Itself (same as for “Marriage a la Mode”)
Composed by Pole Pounder, contributed by Horny Toad
CHORUS:
Drink a little bit, run a little bit,
Follow the hash, follow the hash, follow the hash.
Drink a little bit, run a little bit, follow the hash,
Join in our happy song.
Mighty fine hares are they, are they,
Mighty fine hares are they.
They mark the true trail with bottles of ale,
And mark false ones with three lines of pee.
Mighty fine hashers are they, are they,
Mighty fine hashers are they.
They can’t run, they can’t sing, but they’re good for one thing,
They have the keys to the old brewery.
Mighty fine virgins are they, are they,
Mighty fine virgins are they.
They’re tired and they’re thirsty and their clothes are all dirty,
But there’s no place that they’d rather be.
A front-running bastard is __________, is __________,
A front-running bastard is (s)he.
(S)he thinks it’s a race till (s)he falls flat on her/his face,
And skins up her/his cute little knees.
A short-cutting bastard is __________, is __________,
A short-utting bastard is (s)he.
(S)he ran off the true trail and started to wail,
“Help, I’m up to my neck in shiggy!”
——————————————————————————–
SONGS ABOUT HASHING & HASHERS
Addicted to the Hash Net (I)
Addicted to the Hash Net (II)
A Few of My Favorite Things
A Hasher Looks at 40
A Man of Constant Boners
A View of Hash
Ancient Hash Song
Back in the SDRA
Bagpipe Song
Bengali One So Long
Bike Week
Bimbo
Can’t Hash Today (aka Paddy’s Lament)
Close to Brew
Creak Goes the Muscle Oh
Daylight Come
Deep in the Heart of Texas
Drunken Hasher
Europe
Final Down-Down
Gagging Beaver Bunch
Give a Little Whistle
Gunga’s Song
Handsome Hasher
Happy Hasher
Hare!
Harriette the Tattooed Hasher
Harriettes, They Play One
Has Anybody Seen R J
Hash House Harrier House
Hash House Harrier Mountain
Hash on the Range
Hasher is Smarter
Hasher Men (and Women)
Hashers Go Running One By One
Hasher’s Lament
Hashin’
Hashin’ in the Woods
Hashin’ USA
Headed Out to Orlando
I Am a Hasher, How ‘Bout You?
I Love to Have a Beer With ________
I Want a Nasty Little Hasher Princess
If I Only Had Half a Brain
If I Were King of the Hash House
Imagine
I’m Gone to Hash the Whole Damn Day
I’ve Been Laying Out a Hash Trail
I’ve Got that Hashing Spirit
I’ve Got the Clap Again
I’ve Only Half a Brain
Jungle Smell
Jungle Swallows
Keep on Hashing
Last Hash Run
Leaving on a Hash Run
Like a Geezer Who Has Sinned
Loneliest Hare
Mooning in the Sun
Morgan’s Pies
Mount Bonnell
My Big Banana (I)
My Big Banana (II)
O Harriette
Ode to a Hasher
Ode to Commode for the Flounder
Once a Bloody Hashman
Only Real Men Run the Southside
Our GM
Out of Towner
Over the River and Through the Woods
Ozzy Man
People in Pink Tutus
Porno Prick
Rap it Up
Save the Last Hash for Me
SDRA
She Ain’t Gonna Fuck No More
Shiggy Spot
Short Cutter
Short Cutter’s Rhapsody
Short Cutter’s Tale
Sixteen Miles
Somebody Come and Hash
Song to Cuming Mutha
Spiders in My Hair
Stuck in the Middle With You
Suckanna
Super Hasher
Swilligan’s Island
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl
The Beer That I Drink at the Hash
The Day I Found the Hash
The Hasher Pukes Tonight
Three Jolly Hasher Men
Three Visiting Hashers
Throw Down Some Flour
Tweet-Whistle
Twelve Days of Interhash
Twinkie, Twinkie, Little Hasher
Two Hashers (Harriettes)
Uneasy Hasher
Wanky’s Beers
We Go Hashing
Were You Lonesome Tonight?
Whining Poem
White Rabbit
Wild Hasher
Yellow is the Color
Yesterday
You ain’t Nothin’ But a Hasher
You are My Hashit
Your Hand was Made to Stroke My Gland
Zippy the Red-Nosed Hasher
ADDICTED TO THE HASH NET (I)
Melody – I Heard it Through the Grapevine
By Babe Thruster, Emerald Coast HHH
Every mornin’ at the crack of dawn,
I turn my computer on.
And though I know that I’ll regret,
I log on to the internet.
And like a junkie let out on bail,
(Out on bail)
I gotta have a hit of that E-mail.
(Hit E-mail)
‘Cause I’m addicted to the Hashnet.
How much lower can a half-mind get?
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hashnet.
Nine o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
My delete key, it’s still fried
dumping shit from Access Denied.
Then there’s Teats de Swamp and Opie too,
Flying Booger and Screw Ewe.
These worthless postings are getting me pissed.
(Getting me pissed)
They’re just tryin’ to make that top ten list.
(Top ten list)
Still I’m addicted to the Hashnet
I’m cussin’ hashers that I’ve never met.
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hashnet
Ten o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
Now there’s nothing that annoys me more
than a Stray Dog flamming war.
Don’t they know that they can’t win?
Stray Dog’s gonna get the last word in.
Though I’m really not threatened by him,
(Threatened by him)
he’s like the Hitler of hashing to them.
(Hitler to them)
And I’m addicted to the Hashnet
Debating half-minds is a losing bet
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hashnet
‘Leven o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
I really laughed at those jokes you know,
when first posted six months ago.
And you know we all take offense
at daily postings for those hash events.
They’re all guilty of net abuse
(Net abuse)
just like that fucker with the Nassau cruise.
(Nassau cruise)
And I’m addicted to the Hashnet
A full mailbox really makes me wet
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hashnet
Twelve o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
All these hash events I can’t attend,
it’s road reports on which I depend.
Like CIS and his rum-soaked mind,
he’s hounding every hash that he can find.
Is he a bigger voyeur than me?
(Bigger than me)
Always searchin’ for hash nudity.
(Hash nudity)
And I’m addicted to the Hashnet
This online time’s puttin’ me in debt
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hashnet
One o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
ADDICTED TO THE HASH NET (II)
Melody – I Heard it Through the Grapevine
By Christopher Rowe
I really laughed at those jokes you know,
When first posted six months ago.
And you know we all take offense
At daily postings for those hash events.
They’re all guilty of net abuse
(Net abuse)
Just like that fucker with the Nassau cruise.
(Nassau cruise)
And I’m addicted to the hash net
A full mailbox really makes me wet
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hash net
Twelve o’ clock, ain’t got no work done yet.
I should unsubscribe.
(Get back to work, don’t be a jerk, get back to work Babe Thruster)
All these hash events I can’t attend,
It’s road reports on which I depend.
Like from CIS and his rum-soaked mind,
He’s hounding every hash that he can find.
Is he a bigger voyeur than me?
(Bigger than me)
Always searchin’ for hash nudity.
(Hash nudity)
This online time’s puttin’ me in debt
Yeah, I’m addicted to the hash net.
A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS
Melody – These Are a Few of My Favorite Things
Short cuts that leave all the front bastards trailing,
Misleading directions leaving short cutters wailing,
Slippery slopes where hounds flounder in shit,
These are some things that appeal to my wit.
CHORUS:
When the pox stings, and my balls ache,
And my cock is sore,
I cheer myself up with my favorite things,
And revive the old cock once more.
Quims soft and puckered and minge short and curly,
Tight little cunts fringed with spunk white and pearly,
Red painted nipples, an ice cube blow job,
These are the things that will make my cock throb.
Limbs brown and supple, with buttocks gyrating,
Positions amazing, damp cunt lips pulsating,
Cheerful young bodies all eager to screw,
Of my favorite things these are only a few.
The rugby mob buggers all bloated with beer,
The sight of them’s foul, it’s no wonder, they’re queer,
The dear old mismanagement, oh, what a farce,
These are some of the things you can stick up your arse.
A run that was set by those mad hares the Dutch,
A ride in old trucks that you all loved so much,
Some piss that was different with a beer glass thrown in,
Surely a fucking good hash, no hash sin.
A HASHER LOOKS AT 40
Melody – A Pirate Looks at 40 (Jimmy Buffet)
Composed & Performed by Babe Thruster (Gulf Coast HHH) at Camp Hedon XVIII
Mother mother hasher
I have heard you call
I’ve been running your fucked up hash trails
As long as I can recall
And drank alcohol
All that alcohol
Watched the hares that laid trail
Get us lost and beat
But I’ve seen more of the places I’ve been
Than that tourist on the bus in the street
And did it all on my feet
Through the cold and the heat
Yes, I am a hasher
I’m grateful for that fate
Don’t want to be no couch potato
Sober, serious or sedate
No social standards dictate
How I celebrate
And I’ve done my share of Yucca
Done butt chugs down the ass
Drank enough beer to float a tanker
But pissed it away so fast
Just like my cash
Blew it all on the hash
And I have been drunk now since the circle broke up
I’ve passed out and I’ve rallied, shown my ass and thrown up
But I gotta keep drinkin’
Can’t help thinkin’
A work day in just round the bend
Then we pay for our sin
Hungover again
And I go for hasher women
But I never seem to score
By the time of day they get ready to play
I’m passed out there on the floor
Hope I don’t snore
Or get hit by the door
Mother mother hasher
Through all these years I’ve found
Living the life of a hasher being
The best damned lifestyle around
So I’ll stay trail bound
And do a down-down
As a hare or a hound
I’ll do a down-down
A MAN OF CONSTANT BONERS
Melody – A Man of Constant Sorrow
By Bitchy Cuntingham & Swamp Bitch, Pittsburgh HHH
(as performed at the Pittsburgh HHH 1000th)
I am a man of constant boners,
I see hooters everywhere.
I will bid farewell to my virginity
Down in the place with pubic hair.
REFRAIN:
Down in the place with pubic hair.
Maybe bimbos think I’m just a half-mind,
Wanker, looking for some whore.
But I guarantee that my pudenda
Will satisfy, and leave them sore.
REFRAIN:
He’ll satisfy, and leave them sore.
For six long miles I’ve been real thirsty,
No six-packs on trail I found.
For on this hash I’m bound to tumble,
I have no beer to help me now.
REFRAIN:
He has no beer to help him now.
I have hashed for hours in some deep valley,
Many falses I have found.
Someday I may learn to skip the buses,
To stay at camp and fuck around.
REFRAIN:
He’ll stay at camp and fuck around!
So it’s fare thee well to my old liver,
I don’t expect it’ll be the same.
For I’ve got to do so many down-downs,
Perhaps I’ll get a new hash name
REFRAIN:
Perhaps he’ll get a new hash name.
A VIEW OF HASH
A Poem by Flamin’ Moe, Anchorage HHH
Family of the foot are we
Roots, tradition, history
Built from games so long ago
We’ve flourished more than you could know
On every land, across every sea
Our people gather just to be
We are unique and very special
Some are crazy, some are mellow
Some are hiding from growing old
Getting boring, or what “da man” done told
The reasons change with every day
I don’t know why, that’s just our way
I prefer to think that we gather
‘Cause we like when we’re together
A group of spirits who feel the warmth
When close to others whom support
People that understand the fun
To sing, explore, curse, and run
A break from norms, a time to laugh
A moment to hug or shake some hands
Never am I ashamed to say
I love the Hash most every day
With inside drama, we sometimes shake
When strong views clash or romance don’t take
Through it all we will not end
Not the group, and not as friends
Skip a hash…Heck, skip a few
When you’re back, we’ll start anew
Come be a Hare, Come be a Hound
We’ll pour a beer, then drink it down
ANCIENT HASH SONG
Melody – Tidings of Comfort and Joy
A hasher is a manly chap,
He’s full of vim and vigor.
And maidens gather round in droves,
To see his manly figure.
Of flashing thighs and knobby knees,
He makes a splendid sight.
And all the girls do seek of him,
To spend with them the night.
At this ancient sport he does excel,
None is better in the land.
‘Tis only on a Monday night,
He needs a bit of a hand.
But Tuesday sees him big and bold,
If a little red of eye.
He tells himself he’s not so old,
And has another try.
As lovers go he is the best,
The girls cannot go wrong.
Where others limp and sweat and pant,
The hasher cries, “On On!”
Now you may think this splendid brute,
Is more animal than man.
But concealed inside his noble head,
Is more than an empty beer can.
Of intellect he is most high,
Long words come naturally.
In more than a dozen languages,
He cries, “Jeez, I need to pee!”
On hashing nights great minds confer,
To put the world to right.
Engineers and scientists,
Politicians from left and right.
It really is a treasure trove,
Of wit and repartee.
Foul language is never heard,
Just the occasional “Cooee!”
This lofty band,
This group most high,
Gentlemen, one and all.
If only the world was made of such,
Then life would be a ball.
In this modern world we find,
Such violence and sin,
Isn’t it a comfort then,
To find this band of men.
Whose only care is a maiden’s prayer,
And to keep her safe from harm.
Oh, fret not, pretty maiden,
A hasher will keep you warm.
Not only warm but fed and clothed,
With oils he’ll anoint your body,
And all he wants in return,
Is the occasional bit of nookie!
And when a hasher’s run is o’er,
To the Golden Gate he goes.
St Peter studies the Hash Cash book,
To see what he might owe.
“Thee’s fully paid oop, nae problem there,
And what’s this I see here?
Thee likes a bit o’ hot nookie,
After a few cold beers.
Thee’s just the sort we needs oop here,
So thee may move along,
Vestal Virgins is on the left.”
And the hasher cries, “On On!”
BACK IN THE SDRA
Melody – Back in the USSR (the Beatles)
By Flying Booger
Thought the Dog was full of shit IMHO
Argued with the sod all night
Never saw a guy like that, come back for more
Man, it was a dreadful fight
I’m back in the SDRA
You don’t know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the SDRA, yeah
Been away so long I hardly knew the place
Gee, it’s good to be back home
Leave it till tomorrow to unpack my case
Boog shut down the DSL
I’m back in the SDRA
You don’t know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the SD
Back in the SD
Back in the SDRA
Reasoning with him really wears me out
Agreement you can’t find
And his bullshit claims make me wanna shout
I’m ‘fraid I’m gonna lose my my my my my my my my my mind
Oh, come on
Hu Hey Hu, hey, ah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah
I’m back in the SDRA
You don’t know how lucky you are, boys
Back in the SDRA
Reasonin’ with him really wears me out
Agreement you can’t find
And his bullshit claims make me wanna shout
I’m ‘fraid I’m gonna lose my my my my my my my my my mind
Oh, let me have just one week
Here with no Stray Dog
Just hangin’ round with normal folks
Let me hear my fellow hashers singing out,
Come and help me kick the Dog
I’m back in the SDRA
Hey, You don’t know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the SDRA
BAGPIPE SONG
Melody – Scotland the Brave
Contributed by White Shoes, San Francisco HHH
Here’s to the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash (substitute hash name).
CHORUS (hold chair upside down to simulate bagpipes; make droning sound and tap throat to form notes):
Na na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na,
Na na na na na na na,
Na na na na . . .
Then there was the jockey with his upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Then there was the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Then there was the queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,
At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Then there was the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,
To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,
At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Then there was the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,
Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,
To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,
At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Then there was the wenchy doin’ down-down on a benchie,
For the pleasure o’ the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,
Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,
To support the a’queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,
At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
Now the moral o’ this ditty is when in San Francisco City,
And you’re with your favorite girlie chasin’ hairs all short and curly,
Just remember to take her hashin’ and to give her a good bashin’,
And keep her away from the wenchy doing down-down on the benchie,
For the pleasure o’ the HASHER who was posin’ as a flasher,
Hustlin’ johnnies from the harlot makin’ money in the car lot,
To support the a’ queerie who was leerin’ through his beerie,
At the sight o’ the cranky who was wankin’ in his hankie,
At the thought o’ the jockey with the upstandin’ cocky,
Who was ridin’ on the lassie with the black hair on her assie,
Who was liftin’ up her kiltie at the San Francisco Hash.
BENGALI ONE SO LONG
Melody – ???
Bengali one so long,
Melayu one potong,
Indian one so dark and strong,
Orang Puteh just like sotong.
All Hash Mens’ hard and strong,
They can go for ten furlong,
Darling, please don’t ask for tolong,
And we will carry on and on.
There is a lady in sarong,
She prefers it done on a palong,
To her surprise we can stand so long,
Because one fails the rest will carry on.
BIKE WEEK
Melody – ???
By Shuttle Cock, Houston HHH
Salmon swimming up a stream
Bikers having Harley dreams
Co-eds rubbing on sun creams
Time for Bike Week fun it seems
For once Jammies is gone
And toes will be spit free
But now one has to watch Mullet
If you don’t want a shoe full of pee
Unending beer once again
A 72-hour pub crawl
Random acts of debauchery
And hounds passed out in halls
Late night eating with harriettes
And also maybe some food
The constant rumble of engines
And “Enforcers” with attitude
The ridiculous “no public drinking”
Though chug contests abound
Winning every last one of them
By entering a ringer hound
Bike Week
Time to Drink
Bike Week
Time to Drink
Bike Week . . .
BIMBO
Melody – B-I-N-G-O
Contributed by Catwoman and Penis Head
There was a girl who hashed with us
and BIMBO was her name oh
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
This girl she had enormous tits
Three-eight-double-D- oh
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
And on these tits she did depend
To have her way with men oh
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
The guys would follow her around
To try to suck her toes oh
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
She always shopped at Frederick’s
For lacy bras and things oh
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
The other girls all hated her
Because she was a BIMBO
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O
And BIMBO was her name oh
CAN’T HASH TODAY (aka PADDY’S LAMENT)
Melody – The Scotsman’s Kilt (an adaption of a Clancy Brothers song)
Contributed by Paddy O’Tool
Dear Hash I sing this song for to tell you of my plight,
For at the time of writing, I am not a pretty sight,
Me body is all black and blue, and me face a deathly gray,
And I hope you’ll understand why Paddy’s not at the Hash today.
I was workin’ on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear,
But to toss ’em down from such a height was not a good idea.
The foreman wasn’t very pleased (he is an awkward sod),
He said I’d have to cart them down the ladder in me hod.
Now clearin’ all those bricks by hand seemed oh so very slow,
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured a rope below.
But in me haste to do the job, I was too blind to see,
That a barrel full of buildin’ bricks was heavier than me.
And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead,
And clingin’ tightly to the rope I started up instead.
I shot up like a rocket, ’til to my dismay I found,
That halfways up, I met the bloody barrel comin’ down.
Oh the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground it sped,
And when I reached the top I smacked the pulley with me head.
I still clung on though numb with shocked from this almighty blow,
As the barrel spilled out half its bricks from fourteen floors below.
Now when the bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor,
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more.
Still clinging tightly to the rope, me body racked with pain,
When halfways down I met the bloody barrel once again
Oh the force of this collision halfways down the office block
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock
Still clinging tightly to the rope as I headed toward the ground,
And landed on the broken bricks the barrel had scattered round.
As I lay there moanin’ on the ground, I thought I’d passed the worst,
When the barrel struck the pulley wheel and didn’t the bottom burst.
A shower of bricks rained down on me, sure I didn’t have a hope,
And as I lay there losin’ consciousness, I let go the bloody rope.
Now the barrel (being heavier) then started down once more,
And landed right across me as I lay there on the floor.
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say,
That I hope you understand why Paddy’s not at the Hash today.
CLOSE TO BREW
Melody – Close to You
By Mommy’s Dear Ass, jHavelina HHH
Why do hashers suddenly appear, Every time BEER is NEAR? Just like me, they long to be, Close to Brew, Ahhhhh Ahhhh Ahh, Close to Brew, Ahhhhh Ahhhh Ahh, Down Down Down! ALTERNATE VERSES: Why does cactus stick out from their asses Every time through shiggy a hound passes? Just like me, they long to be Close to Brew Why does the pack cry out ON-ON Every time trail is nearly done? Just like me, they long to be Close to Brew Why are hares always filled with fright Every time hounds are in sight? Just like me, they long to be Close to Brew Why are hounds filled with such delight Every time the hares are in sight? Just like me, they long to be Close to Brew Why do virgins always play so dumb Every time someone makes them cum? Just like me, they long to be Close to Brew
CREAK GOES THE MUSCLE OH
Melody – Green Grow the Rushes
Who’ll give me one oh?
Creak goes the muscle oh,
What is your one oh?
One for the arrow up the steps never to be trusted,
Two, two, the jogging shoes all clogged up with mud, Ho Ho!
Three, three, the checkbacks we all missed,
Four for the worn out running kit,
Five for the toes of the worn out hashers,
Six for the pools of vomit,
Seven for the down downs after the run,
Eight for the ones who turned up late,
Nine for hashers lost at the check,
Ten for the virgins oh so cute,
Eleven for the hare who set the course,
Twelve for the mismanagement of the pack.
DAYLIGHT COME
Melody – Daylight Come and I Want To Go Home
CHORUS:
Day-oh, Day-a-a-oh,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
Day-oh, Day-a-a-oh,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
Frozen ballocks and frozen cock,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
Had a piss and froze to the block,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
Drew me a katoey from the hat,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
Didn’t have a rubber now I’ve got the clap,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
Drank a dozen down-downs before I puked,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
Spewed on the GM and got rebuked,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
Ended up in the Rock Hard ’round about dawn,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
Got my pocket picked by a girl called Porn,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
Now I’ve got to find cheap room and board,
Daylight come and I want to go home,
There I’ll stay till the next maraud,
Daylight come and I want to go home.
DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS
Melody – Deep in the Heart of Texas
By Bollox, Phuket H3
Note: Song is about the 14th Texas Interhash (1997)
Chorus:
Deep in the Heart of Texas
That’s where the Houston Hash went
Deep in the Heart of Texas
Got Wet, got Pissed, fell Asleep in a Tent
Deep in the Heart of Texas
The Houston pack went to InterHash
The rain came Down almost washed us Back
Friday night was a sea of Mud
But the Smell was Farts from Boys in the Tub
Saturday came with Coffee and Sun
Last nights Beers gave us all the Runs
Jessica Rabbit wouldn’t Show her Tits
But Pinball was first to Hang out her Bits
The Run was Shit we got Wet to the Bone
Then the Cops told us all to Fuck off Home
Mighty Mouse swam for an Hour and a Half
At least Hooter/Drummer Bill finally got a Bath
The Nightime Run was in the Nude
Slum Bag was a girl but now she’s a Dude
She is Mr. InterHash for all to See
Does she now Stand up to take a Pee?
Sunday morning with Hangover Rife
Everybody woke up with Someone elses Wife
In the Afternoon we were Thrilled to Bits
We finally saw Full Service’s Tits
Those Colonials are all so Fuckin’ Queer
Pipes says he’s not from a Hash ’round Here
Bollox spent his time with Pants firmly ON
Almost Useless except he sang a Song
Twister is a Game played in the Nude
Bodies covered in Cream looked like Food
Showtime was Better than our Boy George
It wasn’t the Sun made his Dick Sore
DRUNKEN HASHER
Melody – Drunken Sailor
by Hazukashii, Yongsan HHH
What shall we do with the drunken hasher,
What shall we do with the drunken hasher,
What shall we do with the drunken hasher,
After all the down-downs?
CHORUS:
There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,
There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,
There he goes again – pukin’ in the bushes,
After all the down-downs.
Take away his whistle and send him on a BT,
He’ll take a wizz behind the old oak tree,
Then he’ll blow his nose on his old shirty,
After all the down-downs.
Then we’ll shave his ass with a rusty razor,
Shave his crotch with a new-fangled laser,
Zap him in the ass with a copper’s tazer,
After all the down-downs.
Shove a bag of flour up his asshole,
Soak it up with beer and add a piece of coal,
Then stand back boys he’s gonna blow,
After all the down-downs.
Put him in the back of the old hash wagon,
Drag him by a rope from the old hash wagon,
Kick him in the ass behind the old hash wagon,
After all the down-downs.
Send him home with the old hashit,
He won’t know – how he got it,
‘next weeks hash and throw a fit,
After all the down-downs.
That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,
That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,
That’s what we’ll do with the drunken hasher,
After all the down-downs.
EUROPE
Melody – America, (West Side Story)
With apologies to Stephen Sondheim & Leonard Bernstein
By Flying Booger
Note: song requires two lead singers plus a chorus of hashers
ANNOYING SEPPO HASHER (ASH):
United States-O, you lovely nation
Nation of excellent hashing
Always the shiggy growing
Always the finest beer flowing
SNOTTY EURO-HASHER (SEH):
United States-O, you ugly nation
Nation of violent gunplay
Always the Hash List abusing
Always the fighting and flaming
And the buttchugs flowing
And nasty names giving
And the cheap beer swilling
I like the hashing in Europe
Open your gob and chew that in!
HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):
I’d rather hash in the UK
Elizabeth Queen in the UK
Hashing is fab in the UK
Cracking good hash in the UK!
ASH: I like the city of New York
SEH: As for yourself, you can get fucked
ASH: Hundreds of hashers, and all rude
SEH: You Yanks can all go & get screwed!
HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):
Citroen car drive in la belle France
Piss in the street in la belle France
Cinema Jerry Lewis in la France
Tres bien hashing in la France!
ASH: I’ll drink a Shiner in Austin
SEH: You will puke up what you drink in
ASH: I’ll buy the circle a cold case
SEH: After they taste, how you show face?
HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):
Gastarbeiter goes to old Deutschland
Gastarbeiter Raus! in old Deutschland
Not many hashes in Deutschland
More bier fuer die hashers in Deutschland!
ASH: I’ll bring your hash shit to Philly
SEH: I hope it falls off, your willy
ASH: I’ll give the virgin a hash name
SEH: American hash names are so lame!
HASH CHORUS (sans ASH):
I like to hash in Italia
Bombardier loos in Italia
Trails through the ruins in Italia
Beer okay, more so than America
ASH: I will subscribe to the Euro-List
SEH: Up your bum you can put Euro-fist
ASH: Virus alerts will I e-mail you
SEH: Bloody Yank, cram it up your flue!
THE FINAL DOWN-DOWN
Melody – The Final Countdown (Europe)
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak HHH
You’re leaving us, hasher,
And so it’s farewell
But maybe you’ll come back,
To hash, who can tell ?
And though there is no one to blame,
You’re leaving town,
Will trails ever be the same again?
It’s the final down-down . . .
You’ve run through the shiggy,
Still your cock [tits] stood tall
Slurped your drinks like a piggy
Fucked the harriettes [hasher chaps] all.
With so many check points to go
And trails to be found
I’m sure that we’ll all miss you so.
It’s the final down-down . . .
You’re leaving, you bastard,
May you shortcut to hell,
And screw fallen women [hashers]
And the devil as well.
And now you’ve run your last hash trail
So drink it all down,
Will hashing e’er be the same again?
It’s the final down-down . . .
GAGGING BEAVER BUNCH
Melody – The Brady Bunch
Composed by LapDancer (Huachucha HHH) for the marriage of Slippery Beaver & Gag Me Again
Here’s the story of a Hasher called Beaver,
Who was bringing up three hearty hasher kids,
Forbidden Fruit, Shop, and Rear Ender,
Were all hashers to the bone.
It’s the story of the harriette Gag Me,
Who was busy with a hasher and harriette of her own,
LapDancer, and Inspect Her Gadget,
All called the Huachuca Hash House home.
Till the one day when the Beaver met Gag Me,
And they knew that it was much more than a hump,
This group was screwy enough to form a family,
That’s the way we became the Gagging Beaver Bunch!
The Gagging Beaver Bunch!
The Gagging Beaver Bunch!
It’s the way we became the Gagging Beaver Bunch!
GIVE A LITTLE WHISTLE
Melody – Give a Little Whistle
Contributed by Stray Dog, Global Trash
When you find the true trail and you want some com-pan-y,
Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle).
When you meet temp-ta-tion and the urge to short-cut’s strong,
Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle).
Not just an “On-Onnn!” Puck-er up and Blow!
And if their whistle’s gone, yell, “Give ’em a down-down!”
Take the path that’s laid with hash and if you see Beer Near,
Give a little whis-tle (whistle), give a little whis-tle (whistle),
And always let the hash marks be your guide.
GUNGA’S SONG
Melody – Beverly Hillbillies Theme
Based on a true story about Gunga Dick, South Bay HHH, composed by hashers unknown
This here’s a story ’bout a man named Gunga,
He had no prick, so he had to use his tongue-a.
It was down in Houston at a Hash house Harriers’ run,
A harlot straddled him and said, “Let’s have some fun!”
You know . . . moustache rides . . . face smegma . . .
Well the next thing you know old Gunga’s caught in the act,
The Hash folks said, “You oughtn’t be lickin’ that!
The pound is the place where she ought to be.”
He didn’t have a worry, except for VD.
You know . . . tongue rot . . . herpes sores . . .
Well, the moral told here is when you’re hashing in Texas,
You ought to keep your tongue out of other people’s sexes.
They thought they’d honor him for public cunnilingus,
Now Gunga’s called . . . Gungalingus.
HANDSOME HASHER
Melody – Pretty Woman (Roy Orbison)
By Lady Fingers & Twinkie, Austin HHH
Handsome Hasher, running down the street,
Handsome Hasher, the kind I like to meet,
Handsome Hasher, I don’t believe you, you’re not true,
No one could be hung like you.
Handsome Hasher, won’t you pardon me,
Handsome Hasher, I couldn’t help but see,
Handsome hasher, you look horny, I can see,
Are you horny just like me?
Handsome Hasher, stop a while,
Handsome Hasher, talk a while,
Handsome Hasher, give your cock to me,
Handsome Hasher, yeh, yeh, yeh.
Handsome Hasher, say you’ll come,
Handsome Hasher, say you’ll come with me,
Cause I need you, I’ll treat you right,
Come with me baby, be mine tonight.
Handsome Hasher, don’t run on by,
Handsome Hasher, don’t make me cry,
Handsome Hasher, don’t run away.
OK, if that’s the way it must be, OK,
I guess I’ll go home and masturbate,
There’ll be tomorrow night, I’ll wait.
What do I see?
Is he jogging back to me?
Yes, he’s jogging back to me,
Oh, oh, handsome Hasher.
HAPPY HASHER
Melody – The Happy Wanderer
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
I love to go a-hashing
Along the mountain track,
And as I go,
I love to throw
Flour from my sack..
CHORUS:
Valdaree, valdarah, valdaree,
Valdarah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Valdaree, valdarah
Throwing flour from my sack
I love to wander by the stream
That dances in the sun
So joyously
It calls to me
“Come join our happy throng.”
I tip my hat to all I meet,
And they wave back to me
The blackbird call
So loud and sweet
From every dogwood tree.
High overhead the Skylark wings.
He never stays at home.
And just like me,
He loves to sing
As over the whores he roams.
Oh may I go a-hashing
Until the day I die.
Oh may I always
Drink and sing
Beneath God’s clear blue sky.
HARE!
Melody – “Hair” (from the musical Hair!)
By Asshole, performed at Americas Interhash 99 in Pittsburgh
She asked me why
Why I’m a haring guy
I’m haring morning noon and nighty night night
I’m haring high and low
But don’t ask me why
Cause he don’t know
So give me shoes with tread
For my trail’s not dead, Darling….
Oh, Gimme a trail to hare
And I’ll be your hare
Long trail, short trail I don’t really care, hare!
Throw it down there, hare
Shorter length or longer, Hare
Here baby, there mama I’ll be your haring daddy
Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!
Throw it, show it, as long as I can throw it I’ll hare
I toss flour in the breeze
Which gets caught up in the weeds
If I see the pack I flee when I hare.
As I roam through the trees
I hide from the FRBs
For they are turds
There ain’t no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder when I…
Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare
Don’t blow it, when I throw it,
As long as I can go with it I’ll hare!
I throw it long, straight, curvy, wurvey,
Shiggy, shaggy, nice and nasty
hilly, easy, fleetly
Streams that gleam and sometimes toxic
Trot it, polka-dot it
Twist it, beat it, wadd it
Powdered, floured, and confettied,
mangled, tangled, spangled, and near spaghetti (junction)!
Oh say can you see
The end of my trail,
Then it’s way too short!
Down a beer
Then I’m out of here
Down over here
Then over there
Don’t try to shortcut it or you’ll be somewhere else!
Oh, Gimme a trail to hare
And I’ll be your hare
Long trail, short trail I don’t really care, hare!
Throw it down there, hare
Shorter length or longer, Hare
Here baby, there mama I’ll be your haring daddy
Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!
Throw it, show it, as long as I can throw it I’ll hare
Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare
Throw it, show it,
Long as I can throw it I’ll hare
Hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare, hare!
HARRIETTE THE TATTOOED HASHER
Melody – Lydia the Tattooed Lady
Original by H. Arlen & E. T. Harburg, obscene variation by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Harriette, oh Harriette,
Say have you met Harriette,
Harriette the tattooed hasher.
She has eyes that harriers adore so,
And a torso even more so.
Harriette, oh Harriette,
That sexy little vignette,
Harriette the erotic queen of tattoo.
On one tit is a mural of Adam’s first screw,
Beside it a drawing of Eve’s blow-job too.
And right above is her price list in blue,
You can get your rocks off with Harriette.
Titty bum, titty bum, titty bum, titty bum
She can give you a view of sex in tattoos,
If you step up and tell her what.
For only a buck you can see doggies fuck,
Or sixty-nine different kinds of twat.
Titty bum, titty bum, titty bum, titty bum
Harriette, oh Harriette,
Harriette, the tattooed hasher,
When her muscles start aflexin,’
All the tattoos get an erection.
Harriette, oh Harriette,
Harriette the harlot we love,
She once swept our GM clear off his feet,
The design on her behind made his heart skip a beat,
And now a tiny bastard sucks at her teat,
For he went and fucked our Harriette.
HARRIETTES, THEY PLAY ONE
Melody – This Old Man
Harriettes, they play one,
All they want to do is cum,
CHORUS:
With a knick knack, slap her ass, poke her with my bone,
This drunk hare will stumble home.
Harriettes, they play two,
We just want to speckle you,
Harriettes, they play three,
Won’t you swallow my cum for me,
Harriettes, they play four,
We like to see you on all fours,
Harriettes, they play five,
If you don’t swallow you’ll get hives,
Harriettes, they play six,
We just want to slap you with our dicks,
Harriettes, they play seven,
But they all just wish it was eleven,
Harriettes, they play eight,
We all know you masturbate,
Harriettes, they play nine,
All they do is whinge and whine,
Harriettes, they play ten,
We’re not boys, we’re harrier men,
Harriettes, they play eleven,
But all they can handle is only seven.
HAS ANYBODY SEEN R J?
Melody – Has Anybody Seen My Gal?
By Tongueless, Gypsies in the Palace HHH
Note: R J is Rong Jon, a living hash legend
Five foot two, eyes of blue
He’ll always be more drunk than you.
Has anybody seen R J?
Eyes of red, almost dead,
Gutters are his favorite bed.
Has anybody seen R J?
Holy Ghost, he’s the most,
Cheese and crackers when he’s the host.
Has anybody seen R J?
Talk to him, he’s no fool,
He’ll end up floating in your swimming pool.
Has anybody seen R J?
He has written a sacred book,
A record of every drink he took,
Has anybody seen R J?
Whiskey, beer, gin, or rye,
He will come and drink you dry.
Has anybody seen R J?
He wears thorns for a crown,
Women scream when he goes down,
Has anybody seen R J?
If they nailed him to a cross,
It would be every barman’s loss.
Has anybody seen R J?
SPECIAL CYPRUS VERSES:
Viking horn on his head,
Don’t help much when he’s in bed.
Has anybody seen R J?
In Cyprus Pecker Picker picked his pecker,
Didn’t know it was a double decker.
Has anybody seen R J?
East or West, North or South,
No woman has a sorer mouth.
Has anybody seen R J?
HASH HOUSE HARRIER HOUSE
Melody – My Old Kentucky Home
By ???
The moon shines bright in the San Francisco night,
‘Tis summer, the people are gay.
The hares are off and the pack is such a sight,
While waiting there they sing and play.
All around the world everywhere it is the same,
All merry, all happy and drunk.
They ran here and there chasing hash like its a game,
Then to Hash House Harrier House, they slunk.
CHORUS:
Drink some more my matey,
Oh down some beer today.
We will sing one song for the Hash House Harrier House,
And for all Hash House Harriers far away.
They hunt no more for the paper and the hares,
On meadow, the hill and the sea,
They sing no more in the circle of the hash,
We miss them now that they’re with ‘G.’
We lift our beers to the mem’ry of their runs,
We talk of their trails and their song.
The time has come when the hashers end their fun,
Then for Hash House Harrier House we long.
The virgins come and the trails are ever laid,
Wherever there’re hares and the hounds.
Where pubs are found and the beer ever made,
The Hash House Harrier House abounds.
A few more days and we run again on the trail,
To Hash House Harrier House for ale.
HASH HOUSE HARRIER MOUNTAIN
Melody – Big Rock Candy Mountain
By Babe Thruster, Gulf Coast HHH
(Performed at Hedon 2001)
One evening as the circle broke up
And the half-minds were a playin’
Down the trail came a hasher hashin’
He said, Boys, I’m not stayin’
I’m off to a land that’s far away
Beside the cold beer fountain
So come with me, we’ll go and see
the Hash House Harrier Mountain
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
All the people there are cool
They celebrate Gispert’s birthday
And teach hashing in their school
The police and property owners
All just smile and wave
And I’m bound to go where there ain’t no snow
Where a gentle breeze blows the red dress trees
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
You can hash at no cost
The slow ones often finish first
Shortcutters all get lost
The weather’s always perfect
The shiggy thick and deep
And the hills ain’t tall, no snakes at all
No asphalt streets or blistered feet
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
The beer flows through the land
And it’s always cold and bubbly
And it’s all your favorite brand
There’s a lake that’s made of yucca
And hangovers don’t exist
You just wake right up and fill your cup
‘Cause hashers play all night and day
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
No one there’s a prude
So you can sing out dirty hash songs
And hash there in the nude
You’ll suddenly discover
Your body’s been transformed
All the men are jocks with big long cocks
All the women fit with nice firm tits
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
(whistling)
And I’ll see you all this coming fall
At the Hash House Harrier Mountain
HASH ON THE RANGE
Melody – Home on the Range
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Oh give me a home where the hasher does roam,
Where the hare and the harriette play,
Where seldom is heard a Puritan word,
And the draft beer is cold all day.
Hash, hash on the range,
Where the queer and the cantaloupe play,
Where seldom is heard a Puritan word,
And the draft beer is cold all day.
HASHER IS SMARTER
Melody – Man Smart, Woman Smarter (calypso)
Composed by Rambo, cHARLOTsville HHH
Ever since the world began, runner treat the hasher like “inferior man”
Runner hate hasher, it’s clear to see
Runner think thay they, smarter than we
Oh, not me, no! but some people they say
Hashers lack the sense that the runner displays
But I say, believe me when I say,
Ther’re smarter than the runners in every way
CHORUS:
That’s right! The hasher is SMARTER
That’s right! The hasher is smarter!
That’s right! The hasher is smarter!
That’s right! That’s right!
Every April there’s a marathon,
they run to Boston and it’s VERY long
Hashers drink beer, runners drop dead –
Now you tell me which ones must be sick in the head
You see a girl when you’re in a bar,
runner gets afraid that things might go too far
Hasher fucks girl, rubs it round and round
Runner so embarrassed that he’s leavin’ town
You reach a swamp when you’re on the trail,
mud so deep that you begin to wail
Runner goes ’round, hasher march through
Runner too concerned about his clean white shoes
Some female hashers at the swimming pool,
think that to skinny dip is VERY cool
Runners stay clothed – they afraid
Their tan lines ‘r black and white just like a zebra-parade!
One day we had a fantastic hash,
only problem was that we were forced to trepass
Runners confessed, hashers all lied
– – RUNNERS BE IN JAIL ‘TILL THEY ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE!!!
FINAL CHORUS:
Oh, not me, no! but some people they say
Hashers lack the sense that the runner displays
But I say, believe me when I say,
Ther’re smarter than the runners in every way
That’s right! The hasher is SMARTER
That’s right! The hasher is smarter!
That’s right! The hasher is smarter!
That’s right! That’s right!
HASHER MEN (AND WOMEN)
Melody – This Old Man
Harriers’ verses by Flying Booger, in the interest of sexual equality
(__________ = your favorite hash)
HARRIETTES’ VERSES:
__________ men, they play one,
They think they have all the fun.
CHORUS:
With a knick knack, paddy whack, give themselves a bone,
__________ men have sex alone.
__________ men, they play two,
They can’t get it up to screw.
__________ men, they play three,
They think they get sex for free.
__________ men, they play four,
They can’t get it up to score.
__________ men, they play five,
They don’t have enough sex drive.
__________ men, they play six,
Little men with little dicks.
__________ men, they play seven,
Masturbation is their heaven.
__________ men, they play eight,
They can’t get their dicks in straight.
__________ men, they play nine,
They take theirs up from behind.
__________ men, they play ten,
Little boys who think they’re men.
HARRIERS’ VERSES:
__________ women, they play one,
They don’t know how to get it on.
CHORUS:
With a knick knack, paddy whack, give themselves a tickle,
__________ women use a pickle.
__________ women, they play two,
They say, “Not now, I’ve got the flu.”
__________ women, they play three,
They say, “Not now, I’ve got to pee.”
__________ women, they play four,
They say, “Not now, who’s at the door?”
__________ women, they play five,
They’ll cut your dick off with a knife.
__________ women, they play six,
They’re never satisfied with our pricks.
__________ women, they play seven,
Life without sex is their idea of heaven.
__________ women, they play eight,
They always seem to have a headache.
__________ women, they play nine,
Their sex lives are in decline.
__________ women, they play ten,
If they were better looking they might get some men.
HASHERS GO RUNNING ONE BY ONE
Melody – The Ants Go Running One By One
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
The hashers go running one by one, On-On! On-On!
The hashers go running one by one, On-On! On-On!
The hashers go running one by one,
The little one stops to shoot his cum.
And they all go running down to the ground
To get out of the shite, boom, boom, boom!
Two by two – have a screw
Three by three – take a pee
Four by four – slam a whore
Five by five – go muff dive
Six by six – pick up tricks
Seven by seven – pinch eleven
Eight by eight – masturbate
Nine by nine – do a line
Ten by ten – get laid again
HASHER’S LAMENT
Recital
By Dave “Mad Major” Marks, Bicester HHH, England
You wakey inner morny
All snuggle in yore bed,
You rubby eyes an yorney,
A poundin in yore ‘ead,
“It’s someday,” someone seddy,
“You musket up, get reddy,
It snearly arfpasten.”
You up then jolly quicky
An almose innner flash,
Still feelin somewot sicky
You off to join to join the Hash.
An very sooney arfter
You very somewhere else,
Amid the shoutsen larfter
Outside a pubic howse.
Awl roun are many bodies
All jobby upan down,
While some with big beer poddies
Are lyin’ on the groun.
Then on that dredful ower
Mid lots of mild dismay,
There cums a serge of power:
The hash is onit sway.
The Hornet soun so cheery,
And on the packet run,
An sum, already weerie,
Are wish they did not cum.
A Czech pint givey breaver,
For dose who laggey hind,
While some fit eager beaver
Will see wot ecan find.
Jus den a cawl came floaty,
“I’m on won,” swotit sed,
An somewhere someone gloatey
Cry “I’m on two,” instead.
The pack once more togevver
Dare win and strength all gon,
But are dey finish? Never!
Cos Isaac Hunt cries, “ON!”
Our fartin, pantin army
Are strewn both wide and far.
They say we must be barmy!
They blubby right, we are!
We run thru payne an sorrow
An sometime mud a swell,
An no in that tomorrow
Our legs swill ert like ell!
When arskt “Wot mayshewdoit?”
The answer is quite clear:
The thort of cummin threw it
To a nice cool pinty beer.
BUT for “pint” read “gallon”
The timey go so farst:
You thort the pubby closeat too,
But nowitsix ‘arfpast!
An so you weavy homeward,
All fuzzy in de hed,
Your dinner’s in the dustbin,
An you just want your bed.
Your wifey look most unamused:
Er teeth are out and nashin’.
Why can’t she seem to unnerstan’
How fit you get from HASHIN’
HASHIN’
Melody – Truckin’ (Grateful Dead)
By A Nuts, Hoosier HHH, Indiana
Hashin’ got my old shoes on. Keep hashin’, do a down-down man.
Together, more or less on trail, just keep hashin’ on.
Arrows of flour and false trails leading into a swamp.
Deep rivers, alleys, fences over which you have to jump.
Your typical hash trail is always a typical nightmare.
Hang it up and see what the on-in brings.
Shiggy slows everyone down; ivy gets you itching around;
Briars got the thorns and how; they just won’t let you run, oh no.
Most of the pack that you meet on the trails speak of good beer
Most of the time they get swill and drink it all down
One of these days they know they better get goin’
Off of their butts and out on the trail with the hounds.
Hashin’ do a down-down man. Once told me “You’ve got to play your hand”
Sometimes your cards ain’t worth a dime, if you don’t lay’em down,
Sometimes the trail is so plain to me;
Other times there’s no flour to see.
Lately it occurs to me what a long strange check it’s been.
What in the world ever became of the rat?
He got a beer gut, you know he isn’t the same.
Livin’ on Coors, Killian’s Red, and Keystone,
All a friend can say is “Ain’t it a shame?”
Hashin’ up to the beer check. Been thinkin’, you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go and just keep hashin’ on.
Sittin’ and starin’ out of the old car window
I can see we’re gonna run in the rain today.
I’d like to drink more beer before I’m on trail
But if the pack is on out, I guess I’ve gotta go play.
Dead drunk, passed out in the street, set up like a bowlin’ pin.
Knocked down, it gets to wearing thin. They just won’t let you sleep it off.
You’re sick and pukin your guts and you’d like to get well
Get hungry and eat but you can’t keep anything down.
I guess they can’t revoke your soul for tryin’
Get out of the door, down to the bar and buy a round.
Sometimes the trail is so plain to me.
Other times there’s no flour to see.
Lately it occurs to me, What a long strange check it’s been.
Hashin’, I’m goin on home. On-on baby, back to the on-in.
On-home, sit down and patch my bones and get back hashin’ on.
On-On, get back hashin’ on.
HASHIN’ IN THE WOODS
Melody – Blowin’ in the Wind (Bob Dylan)
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
How many trails must a hasher lay down before they call him a piss-pot?
How many hares must a harriette wet before she gets really hot?
How many times must the cock and balls fly before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is hashin’ in the woods
The answer is hashin’ in the woods.
How many beers must a hasher piss before it is washed to the sea?
How many beers can some people enlist before they’re allowed to go pee?
How many times can a man stroke his head and pretend that she just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is hashin’ in the woods
The answer is hashin’ in the woods
How many times must a man lap it up before he can lick a girl dry?
How many years must one hasher cheat before he can do it on the sly?
How many down-downs will it take till he knows that too many hashers are fried?
The answer, my friend, is hashin’ in the woods
The answer is hashin’ in the woods.
The answer is hashin’ in the woods.
HASHIN’ USA
Melody – Surfin’ USA (Beach Boys)
By See Men Inspect Her, Aloha HHH; contributed by Thighmaster
If everybody was a hasher
Across the USA
Then everybody could be runnin’
The Aloha way
You’d see em wearin’ their headbands
Blowin’ whistles too!
Some shiggy shiggy good trail now
Hashin’ USA
You’d catch ’em runnin’ at Schofield
And in Ewa too
Hawaii Kai and Kaena
Honolulu Zoo
All over Manoa
And Waimea Bay
Everybody’s gone hashin’
Hashin’ USA
We’ll all be plannin’ that trail, yeah
We’re gonna hare real soon
Wear your brand new shoes, man
When’s the next Full Moon?
We’ll all be gone for Volcano
But some are sure to stay
Tell the officer we’re hashin’
Hashin’ USA
Visitors and Virgins
Drink beer and get lei’d!
It’s all here in Hawaii
Forget about L.A.
All over the island
We are here to say
Everybody’s gone hashin’
Hashin’ USA!
HEADED OUT TO ORLANDO
Melody – Come Monday (Jimmy Buffet)
Contributed by Dr D, performed by Dr D and Sit On My Face at InterAmerica’s Hash ’95 in Orlando
Headed out to Orlando
For the Labor day InterHash
I’ve got my muddy shoes on
I guess I never was meant for running marathons
Hey fellows, I didn’t know
But If she’s willing to go
Down on me, I’ll be all right
Down on me, and I will sleep well tonight
CHORUS:
I’ve spent four awesome days
In the shiggy Everglades
And I just want to drink some more beer!
Yes, it’s been quite a weekend
Empty kegs and piss in the pool
And now we’re off to the hot tub
For Jammies toe sucking school
Hey darlin’, it’s hard don’t you know
That’s the reason I need you to go
Down on me, and I’ll be all right
Down on me, and I will sleep well tonight
I can’t help it honey,
I laughed at your pussy fart sound
Remember that night in the stairwell
When we thought there’d be no-one around
I hope you’re enjoying the sucking
I swear I won’t cum in your mouth
I promise I’ll look you up darlin’
Next time that I’m headed down south
Thank you m’am, what a pleasure it’s been
Could you tell me your hash name again? (as you go)
Down on me, I’ll be all right
Down on me, and I will sleep well tonight
I AM A HASHER, HOW ‘BOUT YOU?
Melody – Yankee Doodle Dandy
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
I’m a dirty smelly hasher, chasing hares is what I do.
I check down trails in the afternoon, drink by the light of the moon.
I love mud and blood and brambles, toxic waste and smelly goo.
Dirty shoes and bloody knees and a real bad case of scabies,
I am a hasher, how ’bout you?
I’m a drunken beer soaked hasher, draining kegs is what I do.
For breakfast I must have some oatmeal stout, for lunch it’s a Guinness or two.
For dinner I must do some thinking, Sam’s or Pete’s or maybe microbrew.
But when I’m hashing give me Schaeffers, give me Busch or Miller,
Cause I am a drunken hasher. Are you a drunken hasher?
I am a drunken hasher too.
I’m a horny sex-starved hasher, chasing tail is what I do.
I came to (Dayton) just to get a lay, ended up (screwing a ewe) or (with
PayPerView),
I love kinky sex and spankings, naval shots and butt chugs too.
Give me dildoes, give me butt plugs, give me whips and bondage.
Cause I am a horny hasher! Are you a horny hasher?
I am a horny hasher too!
I LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH __________
Melody – I love to Have a Beer With Duncan (Slim Dusty)
By Hazukashii, Hasher at Large
I love to have a beer with Sky Queen,
I love to have a beer with Queen,
We drink in moderation,
God knows what its doin’ to my spleen,
We drink at the Down-Down circle,
Where the atmosphere is great,
I love to have a beer with Sky Queen,
Because Sky Queen’s me mate.
Aha ahe aho, bummpy bump bump. . .ahe aho
I love to have a beer with Flying Booger,
I love to have a beer with Boog,
We drink in moderation,
And sometimes we may chug,
We drink at the Down-Down circle,
Where the atmosphere is great,
I love to have a beer with Booger,
Because Booger’s me mate.
Aha ahe aho, bummpy bump bump. . .ahe aho
I love to have a beer with Zippy,
I love to have a beer with Zip,
We drink in moderation,
As hares we give ’em the slip,
We drink at the Down-Down circle,
Where the atmosphere is great,
I love to have a beer with Zippy,
Because Zippy’s me mate.
Aha ahe aho, bummpy bump bump. . .ahe aho
I love to have a beer with Cold Cuts,
I love to have a beer with CC,
We drink in moderation,
But I often have to pee.
We drink at the Down-Down circle,
Where the atmosphere is great,
I love to have a beer with Cold Cuts,
Because Cold Cuts’ me mate.
Aha ahe aho, bummpy bump bump. . .ahe aho
And On & On, make up your own. . .
I WANT A NASTY LITTLE HASHER PRINCESS
Melody – I Want a Nasty Little Jewish Princess (Frank Zappa)
By Loud Bloody Bitch, Panama City HHH
I want a nasty little hasher princess
With long phony nails and a hairdo that rinses
A horny little hasher princess
With a garlic aroma that could level Tacoma
Pausing on the trail side
So that she can swallow my pride
I want a steamy little hasher princess
With a hash sniffing nose who knows where it goes
I want a hairy little hasher princess
With overworked gums who squeaks when she comes
I don’t want not troll – I just want a harriette hole
I want a darling little hasher princess
Who don’t know shit about cooking, who is abhorrent looking
An on-on little hasher princess
To specifically happen with a pee pee that’s snappin’
All up inside
I just want a harriette ride
I want a funky little hasher princess
A grind ’em up humper with a pre-moistened dumper
A brazen little hashing princess
With titanic tits and sand blasted zits
She can even be slow
As long as she does it with four on the flo’
I wanna dainty little hashing’ princess
With a couple of sisters who can raise some blisters
A fragile little hashing princess
Wish shiggy scarred thighs
She knows where true trail lies
For two or three nights
Won’t some one send me a harriette who bites?
IF I ONLY HAD HALF A BRAIN
Melody – If I Only Had a Brain (The Wizard of Oz)
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
I could hash away the hours, runnin’ through the flowers
Consultin’ with the rain.
And my balls I’d be scratchin’ while my friends were busy hashin’
If I only had half a brain.
I’d unravel every riddle for any individ’le,
Doubled over or in pain.
With the thoughts you’ll be thinkin’ you could be another Clinton
If you only had half a brain.
Oh, I could tell you why The Dogman never scores.
I’d do lots of things, I’d never done outdoors.
And then I’d sit, and drink some more.
It would not be just a hash’ my head all full of trash’
My shoes all full of rain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be so fuckin’ merry,
If I only had half a brain.
IF I WERE KING OF THE HASH HOUSE
Melody – If I Were King of the Forest (The Wizard of Oz)
By Flying Booger
If I were King of the Hash House,
Not GM, not OnSec, not Scribe,
The membership of my Hash House,
Would be wimmin, not children, not men.
I’d command Harriettes, brunette and blonde,
With a down and a down of my royal beer!
As I’d click my heel, all the broads would kneel,
And they’d lift their shirts, and their breasts they’d bare,
And they’d worship, my regal staff . . .
If I – if I – were King!
IMAGINE
Melody – Imagine (John Lennon)
Composed by Hashing Hops
Imagine there’s no circle
It’s easy if you try
No hell to give us
Before us only beer
Imagine all the hashers
Drinking for today
Imagine there’s no hashit
It isn’t hard to do
No more violations
And no Religious Advisor
Imagine all the hashers
Drinking beer in peace
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And get off our waiting list
Imagine no Budweiser
Or beer that comes in cans
No need for geeks or bimbos
A hash comprised of men
Imagine all the hashers
Drinking all the beer
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And get off our waiting list
I’M GONE TO HASH THE WHOLE DAMN DAY
Melody – He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands
Contributed by Elephant Dick, Rumson HHH
I’m gone the Whole Day (Yes I Am)
I’m gone the Whole Damn Day (Yes I Am)
I’m gone the Whole day (Yes I Am)
I’m gone to Hash the Whole Damn Day
I’m gone at 8AM (Yes I Am)
I know it doesn’t start til 10 (Yes I Am)
Don’t care to see your face til then (Yes I Am)
I’m gone to hash the whole damn day
Still gone at 5PM (Yes I Am) Ran out of everything but gin (Yes I Am) The Dollar Darts [we can explain] are kickin’ in (Yes I Am) I’m gone to hash the whole damn day
Still gone at 12PM (Yes I Am) I’m cuffed to Officer Friday [pick an Officer Friday type, and pretend you’re cuffed to him] (Yes I Am) If I get loose I’ll hash on Sunday (Yes I Am) I’m gone to hash the whole damn day
I’m gone to Hash with My Brothers [embrace a Brother] (Yes I Am) Might want to Bash a few Sisters [a Rumson tradition – you really only have to pretend to bash one sister] (Yes I Am) But hey we’re Not really Poofters (Yes I Am) I’m gone to Haaaaash the Whooooole Daaaamn Day!
I’VE BEEN LAYING OUT A HASH TRAIL
Melody – I’ve Been Working on the Railroad
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
I’ve been laying out a hash trail
All the livelong day
I’ve been laying out a hash trail
Just to pass the time away
Can’t you hear the whistles blowing
Runners up so early in the morn
Can’t you hear the hashers shouting
Dinah, blow my horn
Dinah, won’t you blow
Dinah, won’t you blow
Dinah, won’t you blow my horn
Dinah, won’t you blow
Dinah, won’t you blow
Dinah, won’t you blow my horn
Someone’s at the beer near with Dinah
Someone’s at the beer near I know
Someone’s at the beer near with Dinah
Humping on my old girl Ho, and singing
Fie, fi, infidelity
Fie, fi, infidelity
Fie, fi, infidelity
Humping on my old girl Ho.
I’VE GOT THAT HASHING SPIRIT
Melody – I’ve Got that Scouting Spirit
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
I’ve got that hashing spirit down in my head,
Down in my head, down in my head.
I’ve got that hashing spirit down in my head,
Down in my head to stay.
She’s got that hashing spirit deep in her throat, etc . . .
We’ve got that hashing spirit deep in the woods, etc . . .
We’ve got that hashing spirit all over us, etc . . .
I’VE GOT THE CLAP AGAIN
Melody – Those Were the Days
Once upon a time I was a Hasher,
Used to down an Anker Bir or two,
Remember how I laughed away the hours,
Dreaming of the whores that I would screw.
Every Monday evening I’d go Hashing,
Sometimes I’d short cut along the way,
But I’d always stay late at the On-On,
Where you’d often hear a Hasher say:
CHORUS:
I’ve got the clap again,
I really should refrain,
K-25, the Club, and Tanamour.
I’ve got the pills to use,
I must lay off the booze,
I’ve got the clap, oh yes, I’ve got the clap.
One night to the Hash there came a beauty,
A thing that’s quite unusual to do.
But something made me think this girl was different,
It must have been the tattoos on her boobs.
She wore hot pants and see-through T-shirt,
Sipped her beer through rosy choo-choo lips.
All the men began to get excited,
At the sight of that young lady’s swollen tits.
Five o’clock Hashmaster got his horn out,
Everybody else put theirs away.
Then I got myself into position,
Where I could see her lovely buttocks sway.
She short-cut and I short-cut behind her,
Wondering if tonight I’d be in luck.
Heard her calling “On-On” from the bushes,
And I knew right then that we were going to fuck.
This girl showed me that she was no novice,
Her repertoire of tricks sure made me sweat.
I came, she came, then we came together,
And our juices flowed till we were soaking wet.
Made our way back finally to the circle,
Watching smiling faces turning green.
Could it be that they were only jealous,
Or could it be they knew she wasn’t clean?
Drove her home that night, she lived in Ancol,
Arranged that this should be a regular thing.
But then one week later at the On-On,
I took a piss and felt that tell-tale sting.
Now Dr. Budi has a Monday practice,
He’s got a special clinic on the Hash.
So that we all can have our weekly check-ups,
And find out just what caused that nasty rash.
I’VE ONLY HALF A BRAIN
Melody – If I Only Had a Brain (The Wizard of Oz)
By Jim “Whiff” Montgomery of the Pittsburgh HHH, officially premiered at the Eerie (Erie, PA) HHH 1st Anniversary Hash in July 1994
I could wile away the hours,
Searchin’ hills for flour,
Across a wide terrain.
I’d be chipper, and I’d be cheerful,
If my stomach had a beerful,
‘Cause I’ve only half a brain.
With my arms and legs akimbo,
I’ll be chasing after bimbos,
Through mud, thorns, and rain.
I’ll be making lots of passes,
As I fondle all their asses,
‘Cause I’ve only half a brain.
CHORUS:
I’ll do down-downs till the keg begins to spit,
Then I’ll fire one up and take a little hit,
I’ll impress the women with my charming wit,
As I shout out, “Show us your tits!”
Then my beer I will be sharing,
With them as their breast they’re baring,
Our urges unrestrained
Oh, our language will be rude as,
We exchange bod-i-ly fluids,
‘Cause we’ve only half a brain.
JUNGLE SMELL
Melody – Jingle Bells
Jungle smell, jungle smell,
Shiggy all the way,
Oh what fun it is to run
Through a swamp on Sunday – Hey!
Dashing through the jungle,
Following hash all the way,
All those SCBs,
Cursing all the way.
Dashing through the jungle,
Following hash all the way,
All those drunken SCBs,
Cursing all the way.
JUNGLE SWALLOWS
Melody – Jingle Bells
By JAG-Off, Biloxi H3 & Grind Slut, Houston H3
CHORUS:
Jungle Swallows, Jungle Swallows
Takes it all the way
Oh what fun, it is to cum
In Jungle’s open face . . . Hey! (repeat)
When you pull out your tool,
She knows just what to do
If your prick is big or small
She’ll deep throat ’em all
Splashing on her nose
With my big fat pulsing hose
James thinks he’s first
But we all know
That Biloxi quenched her thirst! Hey!
KEEP ON HASHING (Regardless of 1997)
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/don-t-want-to-join-the-af/
Note: this is a Hong Kong hashing song by Malibog. He offers the following explanation: “PADS is the Port and Airport Development Strategy, which China has resisted to prevent Hong Kong spending its stored billions in reserves. China would prefer Hong Kong pass over the $ at the handover of sovereignty in 1997. Obviously we want to spend it, so we can all make some money. ‘Gweilo’ is a derogatory Chinese expression for Westerner meaning ‘white ghost.’ Maggie (I gave it away, I can take it back) Thatcher (or our Wanchai Hash Grand Mistress Maggie Reynolds – just as dangerous in command). Hong Kong Hashes mentioned: Monday – Kowloon Men’s Hash. Tuesday – the Old Tarts (ladies hash). Wednesday – Little Sai Wan (mixed hash). Thursday – The SouthSide Gentlemen’s Hash. There are no Friday or Saturday evening Hashes because we don’t want to be too hangover on the following days our days off. Sunday – The Wanch Hash, Wan Chai (hangovers on Monday are mandatory).”
I got the shits with Mainland China,
I got the shits with them old boys you see,
When your on the PADS you know,
You shouldn’t screw the lads,
Stuffing up the earnings of our gweilo package.
I know how to cope with these frustrations,
And it could be called a Carlsberg jamboree,
Why can’t we stay with England?
With merry merry England,
And get a lease for one more century.
So we go . . .
CHORUS:
Monday hashing with the he-men,
Tuesday hashing with the girls,
By Wednesday I’m a mess, Little Sai Wan, I confess,
Drinking all the earnings of my gweilo package;
Thursday – the Gentlemen of the SouthSide,
And to The Wanch for some more therapy,
Why can’t we stay with England?
With merry merry England,
And get a lease one more century.
We don’t want to be in China
We don’t want to work for yuan
We’d rather hang around, Hong Kong dollar or the Pound
Living off the earnings of our gweilo package;
Won’t spend our days on a two-weeler
Won’t spend our evenings drinking tea!
We’d rather stay with England
With merry merry England
And get a lease for one more century
So we go . . . (chorus)
They say it is a doomed territory
They say they’ll push us Brits into the sea,
I called up my Mother, my sister, and my brother
They said, “You can’t live with me!”
I don’t want to join the party
I don’t want to be a man called Wong!
I just want to go down, to old Wanchai
Spend up all the earnings of my Gweilo package;
I don’t want no mainland women
‘Cause Hong Kong’s full of girls I haven’t had
I just want to stay with England
With merry merry England
And colonize the place, just like my Dad.
And he went . . . (chorus)
We don’t want to call the army
We don’t want to go to war
We’d rather hang around, build an airport, on our ground
Building up the earnings of our Gweilo package;
There’s a lot some people take for granted
There’s a lot of politicking yet to come
But with Maggie and with Taiwan
We could push the border back to Canton
But with their “A” bomb, I ‘spose that’s kind of dumb.
Cause there’d be . . .
No more hashing with the he-men
No more hashing with the girls
By Wednesday, what a mess, all that fall-out, I confess
The living would be frying, in that thermal package;
No more gents, no more South-side
So everybody get down on your knees
Be careful will ya England
Real careful careful England
And ask ’em nicely for an airport please!
LAST HASH RUN
Melody – Please, Please (Beatles)
Composed by members of Edmonton HHH
Last night I ran my last hash run,
We ran and ran it was so much fun,
(leader): On On
(pack): On On
(four times)
Please, please hash with me, I’ll sleep with you.
They said to always wear protection,
I didn’t care, I had an erection,
(leader): Scratch Scratch
(pack): Scratch Scratch
(four times)
Please, please scratch my itch, I’ll scratch yours too.
They gave me a special kind of lotion (on on on on on on on)
It burns my palm when I do the motion,
(leader): On On
(pack): On On
(four times)
Please, please hash with me, I’ll hash with you.
Six bottles later with no improvement,
Hash doctors say they must remove it,
(leader): Cut Cut
(pack): Ow Ow
(four times)
Oh please raise your stein, in memory of mine!
LEAVING ON A HASH RUN
Melody – Leaving on a Jet Plane
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
All my flours packed, I’m ready to go
I’m standing here outside your door
I hate to tank you up and say goodbye
But the trail is breakin’, its early morn’
The hash is waiting, they’re blowin’ the horn
Already I’m so thirsty I could cry.
CHORUS:
So chase me and cheer for me
Tell me that you’ll leer for me
Chase me like you really want me so
I’m leavin’ on a hash run
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh, beer, I hate to go.
There’s so many times I’ve laid flour down
So many times I’ve screwed around
I tell you now, It’s the best damned thing
Every place I hash, I think of you
Every down I do, I do for you
When I come back, I’ll wear your cock ring.
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me frig you
Then close your eyes, I’ll be on my way.
Dream about the hash to come
When I won’t have to hash alone
About the times, I won’t have to say, (chorus)
LIKE A GEEZER WHO HAS SINNED
Melody – Like a Candle in the Wind
By Major Fuckin’ Bonehead, sung to Bill “Nookey” Gilroy by the Edmonton H3 pack on the occasion of his 2nd annual 69th Birthday Party, November 1999
Goodbye Bill Gilroy . . . though you never knew youth at all.
You had your cane to hold yourself . . . while most of us still crawled.
We crawled to your seniors lodge . . . and we whispered into your brain.
We ran you on our hash-trails . . . and we made you change your name.
And it seems to me you lived your life . . . like a geezer who has sinned.
Never knowing who to drool on . . . when old age set in.
Edison would have liked to have known you . . . but he was just a kid.
Your sex drive burned out long before . . . his light bulb ever did.
Alzheimer’s was tough . . . as tough as never getting laid.
EH3 created a superstar . . . and gout was the price you paid.
Even when you died . . . oh the press still hounded you.
All the HashTrash had to say . . . was that Nookey was found in the Nude!
And it seems to me you lived your life . . . like a geezer who has sinned.
Never knowing who to drool on . . . when old age set in.
Edison would have liked to have known you . . . but he was just a kid.
Your sex drive burned out long before . . . his light bulb ever did.
Goodbye Bill Gilroy . . . though you never knew youth at all.
You had your cane to hold yourself . . . while most of us still crawled.
Goodbye Bill Gilroy . . . from the virgin on their 22nd beer.
Who sses you as something more than sexual . . . More than just a little bit queer!
And it seems to me you lived your life . . . like a geezer who has sinned.
Never knowing who to drool on . . . when old age set in.
Edison would have liked to have known you . . . but he was just a kid.
Your sex drive burned out long before . . . his light bulb ever did.
Your sex drive burned out long before . . . his light bulb ever did.
THE LONELIEST HARE
Melody – Unknown
Written by Specklebird for Second City HHH
Once there was a hasher not unlike you or me
Who had to hare on a cold December twenty-three,
For sad was his mood
The turnout was not good
Everyone was home decorating the tree.
He pouted at the bar with his brew
Wearing his sweats and a shirt and his shoes ,
“Where are they at?
It’s a well-laid trail at that,”
But the date and the weather gave clue.
In Chicago, it’s too cold to hash to-day,
Perhaps not in California or Texas or Floriday,
Up here it’s sub “O”
Bitter winds doth blow
And the skies are a dark, cloudy gray.
But, lo, at halfway to four
Two hashers walked thru the door
Followed by two more,
Three more then four more
Through the door hashers continued to pour.
More hashers walked into the bar for their brew
A grand total of twenty-two,
Beer was poured,
Some songs they roared,
The lonely hasher’s elation grew.
“On Out” was called with a tweet
All hashers then got to their feet
They left the bar’s heat
To gather in the street
The hare said the trail would be neat.
The hare was overjoyed, he was glad,
What a grand turnout he had!
A promised great trail
A fun time would prevail
As a hare he would not fail (because that would be bad).
So grand was his rapture, his luck,
He danced and kicked and danced and bucked,
He followed the hounds across the street
All while kicking up his feet
And then got hit by a delivery truck.
Now the loneliest hare is dead and cold
And the moral to this story I am told,
You will never fail
If you set a great trail
But look both ways before crossing that road!
MOONING IN THE SUN
Melody – Seasons in the Sun
Chorus originally written by Dimitri “Dim Sum” Kieffer, Puget Sound HHH; verses were added by Stray Dog
I went down South to get some sun,
To the Bike Week Hash to have some fun,
I just joined the hash to run.
I didn’t know they’d really care,
If I mooned them over there.
CHORUS:
We had joy, we had fun,
We went mooning in the sun.
But the cops, they had guns,
And they shot us in the buns.
The cops they came from down the street,
I couldn’t get my pants up from my feet,
Grabbing cloth from my back seat.
They were gaining on me quick,
I was feeling kind of sick.
The bikers hollered to me “Stop!”
I felt a sting and heard a big loud “Pop!”
And then I knew it was the cop.
In the ass he hit my pride,
Down I went, I thought I’d died.
The hashers came to give me cheer,
To my bed they brought a keg of beer,
I grabbed a cup and held it dear.
The cop outside began to shout,
“Leave my prisoner and get out!”
I was moved though still quite pale,
The judge said “Give him thirty days in jail!”
I was put into a cell.
When bikers saw my bun,
I was safe from all their fun.
The moral of this story’s clear,
Stick to hashing and to drinking beer,
I’ll never moon again, don’t fear.
For when you get shot in the ass,
Your mooning days are over fast.
MORGAN’S PIES
Melody – Jingle Bells
Contributed by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
Dashing down the road,
With a cooler full of pies,
It’s a heavy load,
But it’s for us guys.
CHORUS:
Oh, Morgan’s pies, Morgan’s pies,
Morgan, you’re a dick.
When we eat your fucking pies,
We gety fucking sick.
I ate a Morgan pie,
A down-down I did do,
Now I’ve got that fucking pie,
Caked upon my shoe.
His moped has arrived,
Fiesta time is right,
What fun it is to eat and puke,
Some Morgan’s putrid pies.
We sing this little song,
We sing it just for you,
Now we think it’s only right,
That you should eat one too.
MOUNT BONNELL
Melody – Blueberry Hill
(Mount Bonnell is a favorite Austin HHH on-on site)
I had my fill,
On Mount Bonnell,
On Mount Bonnell,
When I had you.
The moon stood still,
On Mount Bonnell,
And lingered until,
Myself came true.
Tho’ we’re apart,
I’m a part of you still,
For you weren’t on the pill,
On Mount Bonnell.
MY BIG BANANA (I)
Melody – Daylight Come and I Want to Go Home
Lyrics by Cracker, Ankara HHH
I said to my girl, “What are ya’ doin’ tomorrow?”
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
Would you like to go on the Hash in ________?
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
So, I picked her up in my little auto.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
She sure looked pretty, I said “Oh mama.”
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
CHORUS:
Daaaaaaeeeoh, daaaaaaeeeeoh,
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
But this is where my troubles began-ah.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
That’s when she spotted my big banana.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
She leaned over and grabbed my banana.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
Peeled back the skin – eyes like a piranha.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
Chorus
I said, “Oh no, not my prize banana!”
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
But she bit off the top in a violent manner.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
Now, I’ve got just a little banana.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
And that’s the end of my family planner.
Run the Hash cos’ I wanna go home.
Chorus
MY BIG BANANA (II)
Melody – Daylight Come and I Want to Go Home
Contributed by Mr. Bean, Bandung HHH
I said to this girl, “What are ya’ doin’ tomorrow?”
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Would you like to see a Hash at the Tankuban Perahu?
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
So, I picked her up in my antique auto.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
She sure looked pretty, I said “Oh mama.”
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
CHORUS:
Daaaaaaeeeoh, daaaaaaeeeeoh,
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
But this is where my troubles began-ah.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
That’s when she spotted my big banana.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
She leaned over and grabbed my banana.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Peeled back the skin – eyes like a piranha.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Chorus
I said, “Oh no, not my prize banana!”
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
But she bit off the top in a violent manner.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Now, I’ve got just a little banana.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
And that’s the end of my family planner.
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Chorus
I say six inch, seven inch, eight inch, CHOMP!
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
I say six inch, seven inch, Mike Tyson, CHOMP!
I pergi Hash now I wanna go home.
Chorus
O HARRIETTE
Melody – O Tannenbaum
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
O Harriette, O Harrietet,
As all the guys will witness:
O Harriette, O Harriette,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
You are so lovely, you break our hearts,
But you sure do swell our other parts!
O Harriette, O Harriette,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
O Harriette, O Harriette,
She’s the model of fitness.
O Harriette, O Harriette,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
You need a kiss? Well, that’s all right.
Just don’t ask Thurston, what a fright!
O Harriette, O Harriette,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
ODE TO A HASHER
Melody – Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
Contributed by Chorizo
Starkle Starkle little twink,
Who the hell are you I think,
I’m not as drunk as thinkle peep,
I’m just a little slort of sheep,
A few brewkies make a guy,
Fool so feelish, don’t know why,
Really don’t know who’s me yet,
The drunker I stay the longer I get,
So just one more to fill my cup,
I’ve all day sober to Sunday up.
ODE TO COMMODE FOR THE FLOUNDER
Melody – Unknown
by Tortus, Samurai HHH
In the beginning,
Before there was HASH,
Saturday’s were boring
As householder’s tasks.
Washing the cars,
Cleaning the glasses
Trimming the kids
And wiping their asses.
Back in the year of
Eighty and five,
A brain-phart was born
That is still alive.
Out from the classroom
The shout, “now he’s farted.”
And with a foul breeze
The Samurai, Milt started.
From a cadre demented
That numbered a few,
Uncle Milty, Gympy and
Chucky-Choo-Choo.
The antics, ideas, and
Concepts he cheered
Took root, were nourished
And grew wild on beer.
Let’s live life, be happy,
Run trail til you drop
If the terrain is too hilly
Just find a beer stop.
Up steps, climb a fence,
Dodge a truck, cross a river
Drink it down, Samurai Chief,
Maybe hurl, kill your liver.
The pack swells to 90
And the temperatures, too
As the pack’s in pursuit
Of elusive cool brew.
A chorus, a cry as one from the pack,
“Could this be a CB?”
“Where the f**k are we?”
“Is this a back track?”
So Saturday’s have purpose,
We have something to do,
And dear Uncle Milty
It’s all thanks to YOU!
ONCE A BLOODY HASHMAN
Melody – Waltzing Matilda
Once a bloody Hashman fell into a shiggy-pit,
Tripped on the edge of a benjo ditch,
And he hummed and he stank as he swallowed all that shiggy-pit,
I’ll never see Beer Near, said he.
CHORUS:
Short-cutting bastard, short-cutting bastard,
I’ll never short-cut again, said he.
And he stank as he sank and wallowed in that shiggy-pit,
Who’ll come a’running the Hash with me?
Up jumped a papa-san screaming most hysterically,
You can’t run through my cane, said he,
That’s my jolly shiggy-pit you’ve got in your underpants,
That will cost you tak-san yen, one, two, three.
Out climbed the Hashman, dripping very smellily,
You’ll never get your kitty from me,
And he squelched and he oozed as the papa-san he ran away,
Who’ll come a’running the Hash with me?
Now his voice may be heard As he runs the trail so all-alone,
Please, please, please blow your whistle for me,
But the pack, far ahead, is hiding very craftily,
Back to your shiggy-pit and let us be.
ONLY REAL MEN RUN THE SOUTHSIDE
Melody – Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland
By Malibog, Angeles City HHH
Lacy things, have gone missing,
Didn’t ask her permission,
They’re wearing her clothes, her silk panty-hose,
And running ’round in womens’ underwear.
CHORUS:
Okay guys, if you wanna,
You can dress like Madonna,
Put on some eyeshade, make a SouthSide parade,
Go running ’round in womens’ underwear.
On ET, there is a teddy,
Little straps, like spaghetti,
It hugs him real tight like Primo’s handcuffs at night,
He’s running ’round in womens’ underwear.
The SouthSide GM, he’s a fancy fella,
He likes to put them onto auto-pay,
About blokes in dresses – he says “No way!
“But running in your high heels, that’s Okay.”
Over the hills, see them coming,
SouthSide Hashers are running,
Dressed up like Bo-Peep, cause they’re all into sheep,
And running ’round in womens’ underwear.
On SouthSide Hash, there’s a guy called Panda,
He likes to pretend that he’s not gay,
He says, “Are you ready?” We say, “No way!
Well – do you think these shoes will be okay?”
Come and join SouthSide Hashers,
They don’t mind if you’re flashers,
They’ll dress you all up, put on a “B” cup,
And run around in womens’ underwear.
(Slower)
For they’re not adverse,
To dressing reverse,
And running ’round in womens’ underwear.
OUR GM
Melody – The Halls of Montezuma
Contributed by Sodbuster, Copenhagen HHH
There’s a man we call our GM,
Who’s brave & fine & mad,
And we’ll follow him forever,
Though his mental state is bad.
We’ll run for him in sunshine,
We’ll run for him in rain,
Though we know he’s got a swelling,
On the front part of his brain.
Oh, he may have little black-outs,
But they’re only fairly slight,
He has moments of depression,
When the Hares don’t get it right.
He’s got all the classic symptoms,
Of advanced mental decay,
Still we’ll kill ourselves for GM,
Despite all the doctors say.
THE OUT OF TOWNER
Melody – The Battle of New Orleans
Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, Emerald Coast HHH; contributed by M.I.A.
We jumped into our auto and we headed out of town,
Why were you born so beautiful, you better drink it down.
We pulled into the parking lot, it didn’t take us long,
To jump out of our autos and sing this bloody song.
CHORUS:
We found cold beer so we all began a’drinkin’,
The beer was pretty tasty, so we thought we’d have some more.
The hours passed by and we kept on bloody drinkin’,
We’re not leavin’ till we’re heavin’ and we’ve passed out on the floor.
We met up with the hashers who invited us to here,
To fornicate and copulate and drink their bloody beer.
We kissed and hugged the hashers who had come from near and far,
We heard the cries of “On On” coming from a distant bar.
The hares had just departed and had started laying trail,
When the cops surrounded us and said we all are goin’ to jail.
We climbed into the paddy wagon, locked inside the cavern,
But when the doors flew open we were at another tavern.
(And the hares laughed so . . . )
We circled up for Down Downs and to sing another song,
When something started telling us there must be something wrong.
Our bellies started growling they they needed liquid grub,
So we put away the food and went to chug inside the pub.
We went on to the On On On to have a rowdy time,
But all that we could gather from our pockets was a dime.
We put our heads together and thought that we could scrounge,
The money it would take to get a beer inside the lounge.
We packed our bags and loaded up to get away from there,
When someone in the crowd yelled out, “We found some more cold beer!”
We couldn’t leave the ice cold beer ’cause it would be a sin,
We downed our beer and started home but wound up at an inn.
OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS
Melody – Over the River and Through the Woods
Contributed by Access Denied, Maryland Dirt Road HHH
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
This trail really sucks,
The pack’s out of luck,
Why are we in Mexico?
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
If we find the hare,
We’ll strip him all bare,
And into the creek he will go!
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
If we find the On-In,
The Down-Downs begin,
A singin’ and drinkin’ show.
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
We’ll pass ’round the jug,
And fill up our mug,
As the beer and the whisky flow.
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
I asked her for sex,
She said I was next,
After Larry, Curley and Moe.
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
She wanted a bed,
I asked for some head,
She obliged me with a blow.
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
I tripped on a rock,
And busted my cock,
It needs Viagra to grow.
Over the river and through the woods,
Down the hashing trail we go;
When you can’t have sex,
And your girl is your ex,
Give your thumb and fingers a go.
THE OZZY MAN
Melody – Candy Man
by BlowHo
Who can take a bat (repeat)
Bite off its head (repeat)
Then go upstairs and tuck his kids in bed, his kids in bed?
The Ozzy Man can, the Ozzy man can,
The Ozzy Man can, cause he mixes it with crack
And makes your head spin round, your head spin round.
Who can take a dove (repeat)
Bite off its head (repeat)
Then do a down-down while worshiping the dead, worshiping the dead?
The Ozzy Man can, the Ozzy man can,
The Ozzy Man can, cause he mixes it with crack
And makes your head spin round, your head spin round.
BRIDGE:
The Ozzy Man can, the Ozzy Man can
Looks a little like your brother
Scares the shit out of your mother.
There can never be another.
Who has more tattoos (repeat)
Than any man can (repeat)
That’s why Rumpled Foreskin is his biggest fan, his biggest fan.
The Ozzy Man can, the Ozzy man can,
The Ozzy Man can, cause he mixes it with crack
And makes your head spin round, your head spin round.
Long N Hard will do it (repeat)
With any man she can (repeat)
But even she has standards, she won’t fuck the Ozzy Man, fuck the Ozzy Man.
Not the Ozzy Man, not the Ozzy Man,
Not the Ozzy Man, cause he’s really really weird
And he won’t go down, he won’t go down.
The Ozzy Man can, the Ozzy man can
Looks a little like your brother
Scares the shit out of your mother.
There can never be another.
PEOPLE IN PINK TUTUS
Melody – The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers
Composed by Flying Booger upon the occasion of San Francisco HHH’s Pink Tutu Hash, May ’95
The wonderful thing about people in pink tutus,
People in pink tutus are a wonderful thing,
Their dicks are sheathed in rubber,
Their tampons have wonderful strings.
They’re bouncy, wouncy, trouncy, flouncy,
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!
But the most wonderful thing about people in pink tutus is . . .
I’m NOT the only one!
PORNO PRICK
Melody – Grinch Song
By JAG-Off, Biloxi HHH
You’re a mean one,
Porno Prick.
Just a snotty English twat,
You’re probably a transvestite,
Take it up the ass all night,
Porno Prick.
You’re just a slimey English Dick.
Drink it down down down down . . .
RAP IT UP!
Melody – Generic Rap Noise
Composed by Broomhilda, Long Beach HHH, to commemorate LBHHH Run # 503, May 26, 1994
The name of the ‘hood is Rolling Hills
Here come the Hastas looking for
(cheap) SHEEP THRILLS.
EZ was early – tryin’ to pay his dough,
Dirty Something had his rugrat in tow.
Pile Driver said he ran here from home,
Chum tried to get her husband to cum . . .
Riff Raff and Boobs were early this time,
Said “If Tuna’s the hare, gimme back my dime.”
Tuna Taco announced, “A to A run,”
There he goes, spoilin’ Walkin’ Small’s fun.
Tuna was off at 6:32,
His tights were red, but his shirt was blue.
LA/LB . . . whose turf was he in?
Either way he’d fit right in.
CHORUS:
Our turf is wide – LAX to Beach,
No alley or valley is beyond our reach.
This hash ain’t dope, this hash is good,
Each Thursday night we trash a different hood.
So Tuna is off and taggin’ the street,
Just follow the chalk marks at our feet.
To quote Shortstrokes, the concept is clear,
Follow the graffiti to the beer.
The run headed west thru some fancy hood,
Passing Wind passed me, movin’ real good.
I gossiped with Luftswine ’bout C.Q. weddin’ illin’,
Then we came to a check and some down-hillin’.
Off trail we followed Scooter and Lipo down,
Wished I had some bread crumbs to throw on the ground.
Then up the streets and Via Pavo,
(Hey – is that Spanish for “paved road?”)
Found some trail, then shortcut again,
To a scenic viewpoint just ’round the bend.
No flour, no whistles, no runners in sight,
We might be in for a long, lost night.
At the corner where Newton and Hawthorne meet,
There we found arrows at our feet.
We tagged the ground, 7:23,
PH, LS, BH – the SCBs.
Hey, that’s short-cuttin’ bimbos to you,
When you’re slow and sneaky, what else can you do?
Turned a corner – whoop – there it is!
We don’t wanna mess with this chicken biz.
(Long Beach HHH drinks Down Downs from a rubber chicken – F.B.)
So we hid ‘hind a Beemer till Spanks came through,
She thinks she’s the wiener, but we know the truth!
And while we’re at it, let’s get something straight,
These girls in the hood all beat their mates.
At the end there was plenty to hear and to see,
Fruit said “We don’t circle jerk here in LBHHH.”
I asked someone what we had missed,
He said the good stuff went like this –
True trail ran by the Begonia Garden,
Where the fertilzer smelled like someone fartin’.
Is Begonia related to Petunia Taco?
She might be his sister, but we don’t know.
At the rocket ship beer check, there was nothin’ to fear,
Helter Skelter and EZ were guardin’ the beer.
AT&T passes out some greasy fries,
From In ‘n’ Out Burger to all of the guys.
She hears that A. Tourist owned eight cars,
“Gosh, is he married?” – her eyes were like stars.
Repeat chorus
Back at the finish we were all chillin’,
It’s Down Down time and the hashers were willin’.
The usual crowd of returners was big,
Is new boot Mike a Marine in a wig?
Luftswine drank for her 500th mile,
and Mongo won’t do it Doggie Style.
She said, “Our sex life has become really phony.”
He said, “Don’t complain, I bought you a pony.”
The Hashit is Chum’s, but wait, have you heard?
Lipo and So. Baptits just did the M word.
And now that’s over, it’s On On time,
That’s the story, all told in rhyme.
So say what you will about this rap,
You might think it’s nothin’ but crap.
All in all the trail was nothin’ to dis,
And I’m just a bitch with PMS . . .
SAVE THE LAST HASH FOR ME
Melody – Save the Last Dance for Me
Composed by Tongueless, Gypsies in the Palace H3
You can dance every dance
With the boys who want to get into your pants
But darlin’ save the last dance for me.
Oh you can drink every drink
With the boys who want to get into your pink
But darlin’ save that last drink for me.
You can drink to the dregs
With the boys who want to spread your legs
But darlin’ tap that last keg with me.
Oh you can hash every hash
With the boys who offer you cash
But darlin’ save the last hash for me.
S.D.R.A.
Melody – Y.M.C.A. (Village People)
by Flying Booger
Harrier, there’s no need to reply
I said Harrier, just use your delete key
I said Harrier, if you reply you just lose
There’s no need to answer Stray Dog.
Harrier, there’s a place you can go
I said Harrier, when you’re at your wit’s end
You have friends there and I’m sure you will find
Many ways to calm your half-mind.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
They have everything for Harriers to enjoy.
You can hang out with sane hashers.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can erase your e-mail
Get your mind back on trail
You can ignore that Stray Dog.
Harrier, are you listening to me
I said, Harrier, what do you want to be
I said, Harrier, you can heal your brain,
But you’ve got to know this one thing.
No man, does it all by himself
I said, Harrier, put your pride on the shelf
And just join them, join the S.D.R.A.
I’m sure they can help you today.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
They have everything for Harriers to enjoy.
You can hang out with sane hashers.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can erase your e-mail
Get your mind back on trail
You can ignore that Stray Dog.
Harrier, I was once in your shoes,
I said, I was fighting with the Stray Dog
I felt, hashers didn’t give a god damn
I felt the hash list turn from me.
That’s when Booger, he did e-mail me
And said Harrier, take a break from your fight
Let’s start a new club, call it S.D.R.A.
It can start us back on our way.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
You can join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
They have everything for Harriers to enjoy.
You can hang out with all the hashers.
S.D.R.A.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can’t lose your mind at the S.D.R.A.
You can erase your e-mail
Get your mind back on trail.
S.D.R.A.
Just join your friends at the S.D.R.A.
Harrier, Harrier, I was once in your shoes,
Harrier, Harrier, I’ve got a fix for your blues,
S.D.R.A.
S.D.R.A.
S.D.R.A.
S.D.R.A.
SHE AIN’T GONNA FUCK NO MORE
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the whore,
Who had fucked all round Jakarta, but had never come before,
She’d fuck and suck most anything and she had a running sore,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, gory, hallelujah,
Gory, gory, hallelujah,
Gory, gory, hallelujah,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
She hung around the Tankard and she danced at Tanamour,
And with all the fucking that she’d done, she’d never come before,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
She almost quit then in despair, but then she had a flash,
She said “I’ve tried most everything, but haven’t tried the HASH!
And all those wankers are so pissed up, they’ll never see the rash,”
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
And so one steaming Monday night, she found the Anker truck,
She could see by the crazed looks in their eyes that she would have some luck,
So she strolled into the circle and challenged anyone to a fuck,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The Hash Master was in control and so he stepped up first,
But sadly the man had drunk too much and overquenched his thirst,
When he pulled his flaccid penis out, she laughed like she would burst,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The Joint Hash Masters took a turn, they stepped up one by one,
But with each prick she gave a sigh, for still she hadn’t come,
She said, “You’re no good at fucking, you’d best go back and run,”
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The Masters of Music tried their hands but couldn’t do a thing,
One was so tired from running, all that he could do was sing,
The other tried a shortcut, got his prick lost in her ring,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
Hash Cash stepped hard into the fray and tried to fill the breach,
But when he put it up inside she said it wouldn’t reach,
So she grabbed the Secretary and she sucked him like a leech,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The Scribe stepped up and cried, “The pen is mightier than the sword,”
But when he jumped upon her she just lay there looking bored,
She said, “You’re really nothing when you’ve whored like I have whored,”
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The Religious Advisor said a prayer and called upon the Gods,
The only way to make her come was with his divine rod,
But even with celestial help, he was like the other sods,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
All in the circle took their turns, the Germans and the Frogs,
The Aussies, Yanks, and Pommies and even a couple of dogs,
But the Dutchmen were the last in line to shed their running togs,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
When they all had finished she said, “There’s something I must tell,
I’ve laid here in the circle and watched all your pricks swell,
But for all the good you’ve done for me, you can all go straight to hell,”
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
They each had tried her one by one as she lay upon the grass,
They’d jammed it up her cunt and mouth and some had tried her ass,
The one thing that they hadn’t tried, was to fuck her all en masse,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
What alone they didn’t do, they accomplished it in sum,
With three pricks between each finger and eighteen up her bum,
And sixteen each in cunt and mouth, she said, “I think I’m gonna come,”
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
The city bells began to peel, her body began to shake,
Exploding rockets lit the sky, the earth began to quake,
That one massive orgasm was all that she could take,
But she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
And when they climbed down off her and they looked upon the ground,
Nothing of her could be seen and nothing could be found,
They said though she was one good fuck, she’d never be a Hash House Hound,
For she ain’t gonna fuck no more.
SHIGGY SPOT
Melody – Rocky Top
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Wish that I could hash old Rocky Top
Down in the Tennessee hills.
Ain’t no shiggy shit on Rocky Top
Ain’t no fuuuckin hills.
CHORUS:
Rocky Top, you’ll always be
Hash sweet hash to me.
Good old Rocky Top,
Rocky Top, Tennessee.
Rocky Top, Tennessee.
Once I had a girl on Rocky Top
Half bear, the other half cat,
Sure did stink, but her cherry popped
I still dream about that.
Once some strangers hashed old Rocky Top
Lookin’ for a brewers still.
Strangers ain’t come down from Rocky Top,
Reckon they never will.
Barley won’t grow at all on Rocky Top
Dirt’s too rocky by far.
That’s why all the folks on Rocky Top
Get their barley from a bar.
I’ve had years of fucked up Huntsville life,
Trapped like a dogman in a pen.
All I know is it’s a pity life
Can’t be simple again.
THE SHORT CUTTER
Melody – The Irish Rover
Note: another song from Hong Kong by Malibog, who explains “The Wanch is the Hong Kong Hash House; the Firehouse is a bad bar full of bad bad girls who can’t afford to wear clothes; the SouthSide is a Gentlemen’s Hash which to be a member of you must pay fees by direct debit; Lip-stick is a local (blow-job) girlie bar; and Sauerkraut and Candy are Hash Tarts.
I’ve been a short-cutter for many a year
And I’ve spent all my money,
Down the Wanch, for the beer.
But now I’m reforming, my name to restore,
And I never will be the short-cutter, no more.
CHORUS:
So it’s no nay never,
No nay never, no more
Will I be, a short-cutter,
No never, no more.
Well it’s off to a Firehouse I’m known to frequent,
Mumersun knows, my money was spent.
Ask her for credit, she answered me, “Yeah!”
So just like the SouthSide – I’m on autopay.
When you ask for a screw, in my belief,
You should tell the good lady you’ll put on a sheath.
But being a short-cutter, I forgot what I say,
And now she tells me, I’ve got twins on the way.
A short-cut to the Wanch, gave me nothing but strife,
When I said I’ll go sober, to my darling wife.
I short-cut the shower, when I’d been with them whores,
Wasn’t she with Lip-stick in my drawers.
Now dating a German, is cheap for the price,
They bonk before dinner, and earn it but thrice.
So you can short-cut the Fraulein – don’t take her out,
Just let her go hungry while you eat Sauerkraut.
“You must marry the girl, for what you have done,”
Said her dad with a smile – as he pointed his gun.
But being a short-cutter, that wasn’t for me,
You don’t buy the store when you want some Candy.
But the times they are nigh for me to repent
And watch what I do, and the money I spent.
No more a short-cutter – “Oh is it my turn to shout?”
“Well fuck-off you lot, I was on my way out!”
SHORT-CUTTER’S RHAPSODY
Melody – Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen)
By Beaver Bam Bam Balls, Nittany Valley HHH
Is this the true trail?
Is this a goddamn check?
Caught in a quagmire
Sinking up to my fucking neck
Open your eyes, I’ve cut up my thighs and knees.
I’m always off trail, nobody waits for me
‘Cause I’m checking left, checking right
There’s no flour in my sight
Anywhere the trail goes, doesn’t really matter to me, to me.
The hare, has set a trail
Spent hours tromping ’round, throwing flour on the ground
The trail, the trail had just begun
And now I’ve gone and left it all behind
The hare, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Don’t care to run your trail
If I’m not back in time to do a down-down
Carry on, carry on, ’cause it doesn’t really matter.
The trail, has gone it’s way
My throat is getting dry, not a beer around to spy
Goodbye everybody, I’m off the trail
And now I’m going to search for beer in vain
Momma, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, I don’t want to die
I sometimes wish I’d never left camp at all.
I’m just a little short-cutting little bastard
Schadamooch, schadamooch, will you do the Fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very, frightening me
Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Figero
Where did you go….
I’m just a short-cutter, nobody loves me
He’s just a short-cutter from a poor family
Spare him his life from this monstrosity.
Harriette, run with me, will you let me cum
No, we will not let you cum, let him cum
No, we will not let you cum, let him cum
Let me cum, let him cum, let me cum, let him cum, let me cum….
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
Oh momma mia, momma mia, momma mia let me cum
Beelzebub, has the devil put aside for me, for me, for me…
So we’ve finished the trail and the down-downs are flowing
At the apre’ we’re looking for bimbos for blowing
Oh, baby, at the apre’ baby
Just don’t run our, just don’t you run out of beer.
Oooh . . .
Oh, yah, oh, yah.
The trail doesn’t matter, anyone can see
The apre’ really matters, the apre’ really matters to me.
Anywhere the trail goes. . . .
SHORT-CUTTER’S TALE
Melody – Wild Rover
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
I’ve been a wild hasher for many a year I’ve run lots of trails for the fun and the beer I came to the hash on one fine summer day The hares gave a chalk talk and then were away
Well it’s no nay never, no nay never no more Will I be a short-cutter, no never no more
We were in a section of town I knew well That the hares could elude me, there’s no way in hell The hares headed east but I sped to the west The pack told me “no” but of course I knew best
Well it’s no nay never, no nay never no more Will I be a short-cutter, no never no more
They would head to the tunnel all dark, damp and drear I would wait by the exit for them to appear I spotted some flour and I was so glad But after an hour I knew I’d been had
Well it’s no nay never, no nay never no more Will I be a short-cutter, no never no more
Quick as a rabbit I headed on back To try to catch up with the back of the pack I looked ‘cross the river and by a saloon Was the whole bloody pack showing me the full moon
Well it’s no nay never, no nay never no more Will I be a short-cutter, no never no more
It took me forever to get to that bar To get ‘cross the river I had to run far The pack had all left me now this is just crap Ne’er again will I fall for a short-cutters trap
Well it’s no nay never, no nay never no more Will I be a short cutter, no never no more
SIXTEEN MILES
Melody – Sixteen Tons
(attributed to the Houston HHH)
CHORUS:
You run sixteen miles, and what do you get?
Another day older and covered in shit.
Great Hasher don’t you call me, cause I can’t go,
I short cut the trail and I’ve miles to go.
Well, I woke up this morning in a bed – not mine,
With my Nikes in my hands, left for On-Ons to find,
I started with my buddies at half past three,
But I short cut the trail, now I’m an SCB.
Well, I looked for trail all over the place,
I could of followed Ons but I wanted to race,
Thought I’d get ahead, thought it’d be so boss,
But I followed my ass, now I’m hopelessly lost.
Well, I asked the Hare how much further to run,
He held up both hands, said “Let me show you, son,
Just count these and multiply by nine.”
Oh, Great Hasher, please show me a sign!
So I’ve run for hours under blazing sun,
I really don’t know how far I’ve gone,
I wanted a cold beer but I’ll settle for wine,
Oh, Great Hasher – for some fruit of the vine!
Great Hasher won’t you call me?
I’m having fits,
I’ve short cut the trail,
And now I’m covered in SHIT!
SOMEBODY COME AND HASH
Melody – Somebody Come and Play (Sesame Street)
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Somebody come and hash.
Somebody come and hash today!
Somebody come and run the miles,
And sing lewd songs,
It won’t take long.
Somebody come and hash today.
Somebody come and hash.
Somebody come and hash our way!
Somebody come and sing lewd songs,
And drink down-downs,
It won’t take time.
Somebody come and hash today.
Somebody come with me and see the pleasure in the wind.
Somebody come before it gets too late to begin.
Somebody come and hash.
Somebody come and hash today!
Somebody come and be my friend,
And watch the sun til we hash again.
Somebody come and hash today.
Somebody come and hash.
Somebody come and hash today!
Somebody come and run the miles,
And sing lewd songs,
It won’t take long.
La, La, La, La, La, La,
La, La, La, La, La, La.
Somebody come with me and see the pleasure in the wind.
Somebody come before it gets too late to begin.
Somebody come and hash.
Somebody come and hash today!
Somebody come with me again,
And watch the sun til we hash again.
Somebody come and hash today.
SONG TO CUMING MUTHA
Melody – Waltzing Matilda
Composed by Banjo Paterson of the San Francisco HHH to honor departing GM Cuming Mutha, September 1994
Once a jolly ‘Stralian came to California,
“I’m gonna make me a fortune” said he,
And he worked and he hashed as he waited for his cash to build.
“Who’ll come a-hashin in Frisco with me?”
CHORUS:
Hashing with Norman “Cuming Mutha” Wheatley,
Who would go a-hashing with such a man as he?
And he worked and he ran and he hashed in San Francisco,
“Who will come a-hashing in Frisco with me?”
And he worked with his toys in the Valley they call Silicon,
“Silicone’s for titty-bumps, not fucking industry!”
So declared our Hashman, intelligent and witty one,
Oh, what a sly and a cool one was he!
Up jumped a bunch of bucks, full of piss and vinegar,
“Grab him, we’ll make him our leader, will we!”
They selected him Grand Master and that was the down-fall of him,
“You’ll go a-hashing, Grand Master, will ye”
Then there was that asshole, an Irishman of little wit,
Bent on destruction and mayhem was he.
Out with his pal, as if anyone would give a shit,
On with our hashing, our hashing went we.
Then came the Harriettes, surrounding their Grand Master,
Head like a bowling ball, moustachioed was he.
And they teased his little pecker-stick ’til it grew to a three-inch dick,
“Who ya gonna please with that thing? Not me!”
The economy it took a turn, and Tandem took a turn with it,
“My fortune will never be found here” said he.
So he filled his gut with Fosters’ and sent his shit by Qantas,
“Won’t you come a-hashing in ‘Stralia with me?”
Good bye, then, to Norman “Cuming Mutha” Wheatley,
Who would go a-hashing with such a man as he?
And he wanked and he hashed and he went back to Australia,
Some day we’ll come a-hashing in ‘Stralia with ye.
SPIDERS IN MY HAIR
Melody – Strangers in the Night
By Waterloo, first performed at the Agana, Guam, HHH Halloween Hash, 1994
Spiders in my hair,
How fucking frightful,
Spiders in my hair,
Far from delightful,
This humongous bug,
Could be poisonous.
Running down my back,
It makes my skin crawl,
Disappears into my crack,
Down by my left ball,
Now I’m fucking sick,
It’s headed for my dick.
It’s way past time to drop,
My pants and leap,
Around in crazy dance . . .
Fuck this jungle shit,
Give me some urban,
My hair is full of webs,
A sticky turban,
I may soon be dead,
Before this hash is through.
Now I’m back on trail,
Then just like always,
Without fucking fail,
I see the “On Back,”
Webs hanging from my face,
I turn back in disgrace.
I’ve risked my life for little gain,
I’ll have to run the hash again, and
Then I see the tracks in jungle clearing,
With you crazy fucks, all sweat and beering,
You just don’t fucking care,
About spiders in my hair.
STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU
Melody – Stuck in the Middle With You (Stealer’s Wheel)
By Forest Hump, Kiss My HHH
Well I don’t know why I came here tonight
I gotta get my social life right
I’m so scared somebody might see me here
Singing lewd songs and guzzling beer
I got to a check and looked around
A nice pair caught my eye as she bound
When she runs they’re all jiggly and swingy
They do somethin’ real special for my thingy
Drunks to the left of me
Wankers to the right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle with you
Though she’s covered in shiggy and mud
And her legs are dripping with blood
Almost all would consider her a hag
But I’d love to give her a shag
I got called in the circle I regret
For a private party with a harriette
I finally convinced her to go to bed
Now I think I see foam on my head
Drunks to the left of me
Wankers to the right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle with you
Well if it wasn’t for that beggar’s lice
Her ass would sure feel nice
I dig her curves and the way it swings
But when I grab her my hand just stings
Yeah the beer’s goin down with a smile
This circle’s been going for a while
I think it’s even longer than the trail
Damn, I’d sure like to get me some tail
Drunks to the left of me
Wankers to the right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle with you
Yes I sucked on her toes for an hour
Though they tasted quite bitter and sour
I should probably feel shame and disgrace
But I’m hoping that she’ll sit on my face
Yeah my life’s changed since I joined the harriers
I seemed to have torn down all former barriers
Screwing anything has become my reality
It won’t be long before I do bestiality
Drunks to the left of me
Wankers to the right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle with you
Well drink it down down down down down
Drink it down down down down down
SUCKANNA
Melody – Oh Diana
Malibog’s version of the Thai classic (see “Suckanya” in the Famous Harriettes section)
I’m so young and you’re so old,
You’ve had a baby I’ve been told,
I don’t care what my friends say,
I’ll pay your bar-fine anyway.
You and I shall never part,
Here’s three thousand, for a start.
Oh, please play with me – Suckanna
In Pussycat I found you there,
Blowing BOF – why should I care?
And five mates on Wanchai Hash,
Told me you gave them a rash.
For your tonsils to align,
It’s your contract – I must sign.
Oh, please stay with me – Suckanna
Thrills I get when you hold it close,
Oh Suckanna you’re the most,
I love you but do you love me,
Oh Suckanna keep blowing me.
I love you with all my heart,
But don’t bite off my private part.
Oh, please keep sucking me – Suckanna.
You moved in, you trashed my car,
In Neptune’s you’re still the star,
You go out most every night,
Come home at noon, oh what a sight.
In your heart I’ll always stay,
As long as I can pay and pay.
Oh, please what about me – Suckanna
Now your flip mates are living here,
They just bitch and drink my beer,
I don’t mind some beer to shout,
But today they threw me out.
All I ask is one more suck,
You just say I’m out of luck.
Oh, please go down on me – Suckanna.
Hold me darling, hold it close,
Oh Suckanna your the most,
You gave me the clap and now you’re cold
My motorcycle you just sold.
You say its fair, it’s like a fee,
To pay the bill for wanking me,
I loved you with all my heart,
But you don’t just bite my my private part.
OH! please go easy on me – Suckanna
Got you a job in this fair town,
Again you took me for a clown,
You’re too busy for a date,
Till you found you’re three months late.
I’ve loved you for all this time,
But my right palm I must shine.
Oh please, it wasn’t me – Suckanna.
Legionnaires, I’ll volunteer,
Or maybe I could turn queer,
I’m at a loss, I must admit,
How to get out of all this shit.
I could just run to anywhere,
But now she says there’s two in there.
Oh please, have mercy on me – Suckanna.
My ETC, you cleaned out,
Now I know what it’s all about,
But you say you can’t marry me,
‘Cause I’d be husband number three.
Oh god damn – what rotten luck,
Thought I was a real dead duck.
Oh, please marry me – Suckanna.
Its okay, a false alarm,
But my girl ain’t lost her charm,
She didn’t do it, just to me,
Half the Hash thought they should flee.
But do you think that we could part?
She would miss my golden heart.
Oh, please keep fleecing me – just Suckanna . . .
Oh, please – Suckanna . . .
Oh, please – Suckanna . . .
SUPER HASHER
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
From the Austin HHH Songbook
He started off at five, as the GM cried “On-On,”
Loping o’er the hedges to the blowin’ of the horn,
But the run it was a righty, and the poor bloke went straight on,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
CHORUS:
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He ran through the bushes to the cheering of the throng,
Following their happy cries, he felt he wasn’t wrong,
But the cunning little bastards were just stringing him along,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He ran on through the forests as the daylight turned to gray,
Searching for the flour, but it was far away,
And he knew he had to find it so he could run another day,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
It was approaching darkness, and many hills he’d crossed,
He’d traversed mighty rivers, as he dreamt of getting sauced,
But now he began to realize that he was just fucking lost,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He ran on past small shacks lit with dim and flickering tapers,
He damned the hare and co-hare for not laying much more paper,
And also the “Pervert,” the bleeding fornicator,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He thought of all the hounds drinking Shiner at the truck,
And the bastards who left early so that they could have a fuck,
But our poor bloke was miles away, and he was out of luck,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
Oh, in the gathering darkness, he ran o’er the fields,
Trampling the new rice crops he could neither see nor feel,
But the farmer he was watching, and he began to squeal,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He thought that he might make it now, so gleefully he sang,
But then he glanced behind him, and the farmer bared his fangs,
And reached into his waistband for his trusty sharp parang,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
The farmer leapt out after him, his doorway still unshut,
For the only thing he’d wanted in all his life was but,
Some Hasher’s balls adorning the mantel of his hut,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
In a blazing burst of speed our hound took off across the fields,
The farmer he was losing ground, but now his fate was sealed,
For ahead there was a shiggy-pit with no bloody way to yield,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
He teetered on the edge of that dark and dismal pit,
And then, in desperation, he jumped into its midst,
And as he sank from sight he cried, “What a fucking crock of shit!”
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
So, if you go a’runnin’ upon a Sunday night,
And come across a shiggy-pit upon the left or right,
Remember our poor Hasher and his shit-i-i-ful plight,
Oh, he ain’t gonna Hash no more.
SWILLIGAN’S ISLAND
Melody – Gilligan’s Island Theme
From Whiff, Pittsburgh HHH
Just sip yer brew and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a drunken hash.
That started with a keg of beer,
And everyone got trashed. (Repeat)
The first hare was a brainless cooch,
His co-hare was half as smart.
Two hundred some odd half-minds,
Took off in a cloud of farts. (Repeat)
The hills got steep, the shiggy deep,
The back checks had them fooled.
Then someone found the beer stop,
And everybody drooled. (Repeat)
The mud had sucked their sneakers off,
Their legs were ripped a lot.
But once they had their nectar,
The trail they soon forgot. (Repeat)
The moral is no matter how,
Much shiggy’s on your trail,
A hashin’ twit don’t give a shit,
While he’s swilling his ale.
THANK GOD I’M A HASHING GIRL
Melody – Thank God I’m a Country Boy (John Denver)
Composed by Prodigy, New York City HHH
I’m riding in the car,
Caffeine in my veins!
Tub Slut’s at the wheel,
And he’s holding all the reins!
I’m sitting in the back,
I’m ready to hurl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well my tent’s put up and it’s
Lookin’ mighty fine!
Access Denied, he’s after my behind.
Never seen his dick, it might have a curl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well I got me my beer,
I got me old condom!
Flirting with the men,
Gonna do some rockin’!
Virgin I’m not, I’m ready to whirl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
(NO MUSIC BREAK)
Well I’m running on trail,
Someone yells, “ON ON!”
I’m dashing through the
Meadow and I step on a fawn!
I scream like a banshee,
My nerves unfurled!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Make it to the On In and yell,
“Where’s the beer!”
Forced to do a down down for
Bungling the deer.
What can I say? I ain’t no pearl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well I got me my beer,
I got me old condom!
Flirting with the men,
Gonna do some rockin’!
Virgin I’m not, I’m ready to whirl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
(2 ROUND BREAK)
Well the talent’s mighty strong,
Emcee yells, “You’re on!”
I torture you buttheads with this
Dippy song.
I gave it a shot, I gave it a twirl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
It’s getting close to midnight,
And we’re naked to our shoes.
Temperature is dropping,
Peckers shrinking out of view
Pour me a beer, I’ve lost my hue!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well I got me my beer,
I got me old condom!
Flirting with the men,
Gonna do some rockin’!
Virgin I’m not, I’m ready to whirl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
(2 ROUND BREAK)
It’s early in the morning and my
Head’s real sore.
I’m sorry for the men who didn’t
Get to score.
Out the tent I stagger,
I’m looking mighty haggard!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well the car’s packed up,
Time to say bye-bye.
But it won’t be forever so don’t
You cry.
HONG KONG IN ’97!!
Give the Commies a ride!
(PAUSE)
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
Well I got me my beer,
I got me old condom!
Flirting with the men,
Gonna do some rockin’!
Virgin I’m not, I’m ready to whirl!
Thank God I’m a Hashing Girl!
THE BEER THAT I DRINK AT THE HASH (A DUET)
Melody – The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring (The Mikado)
With Apologies to William S. Gilbert & Sir Arthur Sullivan
By Flying Booger
HARRIER’S VERSE:
The beer that I drink at the hash, Tra la,
Doth fill me with lust for some ass.
As I merrily drink and I sing, Tra la,
I dream of your fine furry thing, Tra la,
Of a night of hot sex so divine,
Of a night of hot sex so divine.
And that’s what I mean when I say that my beer
Doth fill Mister Happy with horny good cheer,
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la-a,
The beer that I drink at the hash.
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la la!
HARRIETTE’S VERSE:
The beer that you drink at the hash, Tra la,
Prevents you from getting some ass.
You come home a boozy old wimp, Tra la,
Your willy is willing but limp, Tra la,
It’s a caricature of a dick,
It’s a caricature of a dick.
And that’s what I mean when I say, or I sing,
“Oh bugger the beer that shrinks your wee thing.”
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la-a,
Oh bugger your nasty old beer.
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la-a,
Tra la la la la la!
THE DAY I FOUND THE HASH
Melody – American Pie
Composed by Babe Thruster
A long, long time ago,
I can still remember
When flour was for baking bread.
And often on my training run,
It occurred to me this is no fun.
I’d rather be out drinking beer instead.
Then one day fate stepped in.
I was running with a new-found friend.
He told me there’s a group here
That never gets too much beer.
I don’t recall if I was brash
When I first heard all that half-mind trash.
But my life changed in a flash
The day I found the hash.
So,
CHORUS:
On-On, get your ass on the trail.
We’ve been on flour for an hour
Can’t let shiggy prevail.
‘Cause we know at the end we’ve got cold beer and ale
And then, maybe I’ll do a down-down,
Maybe I’ll do a down-down
Well, that day, I pulled in
To where this hash was to begin
And encountered quite a motley crew.
They hit me up for a little cash
Then introduced me ‘round the hash
With nicknames that seemed to be quite crude.
They pulled me aside for a little talk
To explain those symbols marked with chalk.
Then the whole group began to jam.
Man, I dig that Father Abraham!
With a sudden shout and a whistle blast,
The entire pack hit the trail at last.
And I was catching on real fast
The day I found the hash.
And we were shouting….
CHORUS
Well, this trail was not hard to track
But I noticed when I was looking back
A hasher had gone astray.
He said, “I know these hares and where they’ll go,
We’ll be way ahead of the pack, you know.”
So I followed. Surely this guy knows the way.
But as the pack faded away,
His confidence fell to decay.
I thought we were so shrewd,
But now we were really screwed!
So I turned back for a trail more true,
I was cussin’ that hasher and his mother too.
Yes, I was singin’ short-cutter’s blues
The day I found the hash.
And we were shouting…
CHORUS
Twiggy shiggy, this swamp’s a biggie,
But I plunged right in just like a barn yard piggy
And sank down to my balls.
The trail finally took some higher ground
But a thorny vine my ankle found
And like Humpty, I had a great fall.
So now my leg was streaked with blood
As it flowed down through the dried-on mud,
But I guessed this was not rare
‘Cause no one seemed to care.
And as I hashed on past shrub and tree
I developed my philosophy
That a shiggy trail’s the trail for me
The day I found the hash
And we were shouting….
CHORUS
Well, I was tired, I was glad to hear
A hasher ahead yell out “beer near!”
This trail had reached the end.
And what I found made me shed a tear.
It was four ice chests packed full of beer
‘Cause a cold one is a hasher’s favorite friend.
“Bring forth the virgin!” they began to yell
Then sang a song about heaven and hell
I downed my first one fast,
Oh, but it would not be my last.
The down-down accusations flew,
We sang an obscene song or two.
Hey hasher, toss me another brew
The day I found the hash.
And we were shouting…
CHORUS
And as so often does occur,
All the rest is just a blur.
But I had lots of fun they say.
And I kept going back for more.
My old friends now seem such a bore.
I prefer the hedonistic hashing way.
With this hasher’s life I’ve come to grips.
Vacations are all hash road trips.
New friends in each city,
Exposing ass and titty.
And I guess I’ll be a hashin’ guy
Until the day I fuckin’ die.
But I won’t forget the day that I,
The day, I found the hash.
So….
CHORUS
forever singin’…
On-On, get your ass on the trail.
We’ve been on flour for an hour
Can’t let shiggy prevail.
‘Cause we know at the end we’ve got cold beer and ale.
And now I will do a down-down.
THE HASHER PUKES TONIGHT
Melody – The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
Long version
CHORUS: Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, Hashing all week long! Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, Hashing all week long!
In the shiggy, the wild shiggy, the Hasher’s lost the trail. In the shiggy, the wild shiggy, the Hasher’s lost the trail.
At the beer check, the blessed beer check, the Hasher shortcuts past.
At the beer check, the blessed beer check, the Hasher shortcuts past.
In the shower, the public shower, the Hasher beats his meat.
In the shower, the public shower, the Hasher beats his meat.
In the Circle, the drunken Circle, the Hasher drinks it down.
In the Circle, the drunken Circle, the Hasher drinks it down.
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
In the Hash House, the rowdy Hash House, the Hasher sings this song.
In the Hash House, the rowdy Hash House, the Hasher sings this song.
THREE JOLLY HASHER MEN
Melody – There Were Three Jolly Fishermen
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
There were three jolly hasher men,
There were three jolly hasher men,
There were three jolly hasher men,
Hasher, Hasher, men, men, men,
Hasher, Hasher, men, men, men,
There were three jolly hasher men.
The first one’s name was (first name),
The first one’s name was (first name),
The first one’s name was (first name),
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on,
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on
The first one’s name was (first name),
The second one’s name was (second name),
The second one’s name was (second name),
The second one’s name was (second name),
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on,
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on
The second one’s name was (second name).
The third one’s name was (third name),
The third one’s name was (third name),
The third one’s name was (third name),
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on,
Hasher, Hasher, on, on, on
The third one’s name was (third name).
(Number of Hasher verses, above, may be modified to the size of the group down-down)
They all went down on (insert name of Hare or Harriette),
They all went down on (insert name of Hare or Harriette),
They all went down on (insert name of Hare or Harriette),
They went, They went, down, down, down,
They went, They went, down, down, down,
They all went down on (insert name of Hare or Harriette).
They should have gone down on the beer
They should have gone down on the beer
They should have gone down on the beer
Drink it, Drink it, down, down, down,
Drink it, Drink it, down, down, down,
They should have gone down on the beer.
(Followed by Why are we Waiting)
THREE VISITING HASHERS
Melody – Mademoiselle from Armentieres
(Take turns leading verses)
Three visiting hashers came over here, parlez-vous,
Three visiting hashers came over here, parlez-vous,
Three visiting hashers came over here,
To fuck our women and drink our beer, inky-dinky, parlez-vous.
They came upon a down-down, etc . . .
Pissed on the fire and drank a round, inky-dinky parlez-vous.
Oh G.M., have you a harriette fair,
With blowjob lips and stringy hair, etc.
Oh yes, but she’s too new,
To sleep with stinking hashers like you, etc.
Oh, Grand Master, I’m not too new,
After all, I slept with you, etc.
Yes, that’s true, but you’re so sweet,
Perhaps you could just suck their feet, etc.
Feet are fine, but I prefer,
That they ride on my mound of fur, etc.
Up the old stairs she was led,
They threw her down upon the bed, etc.
They tied her to the leg of the bed,
And fucked her till her cheeks were red, etc.
Then they took her to the shed,
And fucked her till she was nearly dead, etc.
They took her down a shady lane,
And fucked her back to life again, etc.
They fucked her up, they fucked her down,
They fucked her all around the town, etc.
They fucked her in, they fucked her out,
They fucked her up her water spout, etc.
Three months went by and all was well,
Another month and she began to swell, etc.
Nine months later she gave a grunt,
And a little hasher popped out of her cunt, etc.
The little hasher he grew and grew,
He fucked the Joint Master and On Sec too, etc.
The little hasher he went to hell,
And there he started a hash as well, etc.
THROW DOWN SOME FLOUR
Melody – Beer Barrel Polka
By Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
Throw down some flour,
We’ll have a barrel of fun.
Throw down some flour,
We’ve got the pack on the run.
Down Down on-on-on
Sing out a song of lewd cheer,
Now’s the time to throw down some flour
For the pack’s all here.
TWEET-WHISTLE (A LIBRETTO)
Melody – Tit-Willow (The Mikado)
With apologies to William S. Gilbert & Sir Arthur Sullivan
By Flying Booger
On a fork in the trail a poor lost half-mind
Blew “Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
And I said to him, “Hasher, are you in a bind
Blowing ‘Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle?'”
“Is it scarceness of powder, dear hasher?” I cried,
“Or a lack of good beer in your thirsty inside?”
With a shake of his poor weary head, he replied,
“Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
He followed false trail, till he came to the shore,
Blowing “Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
And a cold perspiration came out of his pores,
Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!
He sobbed and he sighed, and an “Are you?” he gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowing wave,
And an echo arose from his watery grave –
“Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
Now I feel just as sure as I’m sure that I blow
Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle,
That ’twas lack of true trail that did make him go
“Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
And if you refrain from more flour to lay, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
“Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”
TWELVE DAYS OF INTERHASH
Melody – Twelve Days of Christmas
On the twelfth day of Interhash,
My true love gave to me:
Twelve twats a’twitching,
Eleven leaping lesbians,
Ten torn testicles,
Nine gnawed off nipples,
Eight aching assholes,
Seven sucking sisters,
Six sixty-niners,
Five pubic hairs!
Four calling girls,
Three French whores,
Two shit house doors,
And a lube job in her fur tree.
______
Twelve heinous sins,
Eleven hashers drinking,
Ten tits a-swinging,
Nine S. C. B.’s swimming,
Eight whistles blowing,
Seven long B. T.’s,
Six puffs of flour,
Five frosty beers!
Four bimbos walking,
Three hares a-laying,
Two D. O. T.’s,
And a trail with a lot of shiggy.
TWINKIE, TWINKIE, LITTLE HASHER
Melody – Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
(attributed to Twinkie of the Austin HHH)
Twinkie, twinkie, little Hasher,
Can’t you suck a little faster?
Down upon my meat so slow,
Like a whale about to blow,
Twinkie, twinkie, little Hasher,
Can’t you suck a little faster?
TWO HASHERS (HARRIETTES)
Melody – This Old Man
Composed by Flamin’ Asshole, Nabob, Porno Pretzle, and Party Hats, Emerald Coast HHH, Florida; contributed by M.I.A.
Two hashers, drove for miles,
From the Emerald Coast to Tybee Isle.
CHORUS # 1:
With a couple of cunts and a cooler full of beer,
How the fuck did we get here?
Two harriettes, drove for miles,
From the Emerald Coast to Tybee Isle.
CHORUS # 2:
With a couple of cocks and a cooler full of beer,
How the fuck did we get here?
Two hashers, in a truck,
One got blown and one got sucked.
Two harriettes, in a truck,
One got banged and the other got fucked.
Two hashers, on the road,
While they drove they lost their load.
Two harriettes, on the road,
While they drove their tits they showed.
Four hashers, stopped to dine,
At mile marker sixty-nine.
CHORUS # 3:
With cunts and cocks and a cooler full of beer,
We fucked and sucked our way to here.
Four hashers, they came late,
Nabob stopped to masturbate.
All you hashers in the crowd,
Hear us now and hear us loud,
When you cum to Intercourse you’d better bring a date,
So you won’t have to masturbate!
UNEASY HASHER
Melody – Uneasy Rider (Charlie Daniels Band)
By Babe Thruster, performed at Hedon ’99
I was on 85 headin’ to ATL.
Had the A/C on ’cause it was hot as hell.
When all at once my radiator blew its top.
Well, I took a quick exit and drove around a bit.
Didn’t know where I was goin’ ’cause I couldn’t see shit
And this here’s what happened when I stopped.
I seen these folks was havin’ a camp-out event
And it just so happened that I had my tent
And I figured I’d hang out for a day or two.
Now one thing was abundantly clear
These folks could really drink some beer
So I grabbed me a cup and poured myself a brew.
The first thing I noticed that seemed kinda strange
Was the folks all had these funny names
Like “Beats Me”, “Bunny Banger” and “Screw Ewe”.
They gave me a flyer and I started readin’
It said “welcome folks to ol’ Camp Hedon”
And I wondered just what the hell I had gotten in to.
‘Cause they had frozen margaritas and beer galore
They had footprints on everything they wore
That is for the ones that weren’t walkin’ ’round nude.
They had a big blue curtain they called “The Wall of Shame”
So the neighbors would have just themselves to blame
If their kids got traumatized by what they viewed.
They had co-ed showers with icy cold water
that would shrink your dick down to the size of a quarter
And I never did get all the soap outta my crack.
There was high fat food and nekkid pot scrubbin’
They had videos showin’ animal lovin’
Where this woman and her dog performed unspeakable acts.
And while I’m on the subject of unspeakable acts
Their skit night took things to the max.
Yeah, they was all out there pushin’ on that envelope.
They did the Full Monty and to my surprise
A triple butt chug by these four nekkid guys.
That really seemed to get Erection Master’s goat.
And just when I thought I’d seen the worst of the hash
Up jumped these guys from the Carolina Trash
And they all commenced to settin’ their dicks on fire.
Now I wish I could tell ya I weren’t participatin’
That I just sat back watchin and waitin’
But if I did, I’d be a dadburned liar.
Cause I hit them kegs five times an hour
And I ran through the woods on a trail of flour
And I played in Shit Happens’ question game
And I woke up early every morn
To some asshole out there blowin a horn
And drank bloody Marys to kill the hangover pain.
And I was taken to holler and curse
And I ran nekkid with ol’ Head Nurse
And afterwards never did put my clothes back on.
And I blazed though shiggy till I was bleedin’
And ended up in what’s called sub-Hedon
Where I sang dirty songs and drank till damn near dawn.
Yeah, there I was breakin all the rules
that Ms. Fletcher had taught me thar in Sunday school
And little did I know there’d be hell to pay.
Now Sunday afternoon weren’t too busy
So I staggered over to watch Izzy Dizzy
It’s a beer chuggin’ game hashers like to play.
And the one team there I really noticed
Was the one lead by this dude called Otis
His team was Gay 2000 without a doubt.
Cause instead of spinnin’ round them baseball bats
They were using some guys nekkid ass
And it was somewhere about this time that I passed out.
Now when finally I did come to
You won’t believe it but I swear it’s true
A pit from Hell opened up thar in that field
And from that pit came laughin’ and screamin’
About two dozen hellish demons
They was all butt-nekid and red from head to toe.
Yeah, this here weren’t no hallucination
Them demons set out to runnin’ and chasin’
They was grabbin folks and castin’ ’em into that pit..
Well, I just sat there shocked as I could be
When I noticed a few of ’em lookin’ at me
And that’s when I decided it was time to go.
I jumped up screamin’ and away I went
I figured fuck my stuff and fuck my tent
There was no way in hell that I’d get caught
Jumped into my truck and fled for my life
And I didn’t look back like ol’ Lots’ wife
’cause I knew damn sure I’d turn to a pillar of salt
Now when I think back, you know I’m still amazed
By those crazy fuckers and the hell they raised
And I wonder just what happened to that tent of mine
And I gotta admit I had a damn good time
I wonder of folks’ would think I’d lost my mind
If I went back in ’99.
WANKY’S BEERS
Melody – Jingle Bells
Adapted by Flying Booger from “Morgan’s Pies”; composed in honor of Wanky Doodle, Aloha HHH’s biermeister, December, 1994
Dashing down the trail,
With a cooler full of brew,
This beer tastes like hell,
What can we hashers do?
CHORUS:
Oh, Wanky’s beers, Wanky’s beers,
Wanky, you’re a dick.
When we drink your fucking piss,
It makes us fucking sick.
Oh, Wanky’s beers, Wanky’s beers,
We told you fucking twice,
When you pack those fucking beers,
You can’t forget the ice!
I drank a Wanky brew,
A down-down I did do,
Now I’ve got that fucking brew
Caked upon my shoe.
The biermobile’s arrived,
On-In time is here,
What fun it is to chug and puke,
Our Wanky’s putrid beer.
We sing this little song,
We sing it just for you,
Now we think it’s only right,
That you should drink one too.
WE GO HASHING
Melody – Oh, My Darlin’ Clementine
Composed by Sodbuster, Copenhagen HHH; written for Copenhagen 100th run
From the distant dawn of mankind,
To the present state of bliss,
Evolution has refined us,
And the proof is simply this:
CHORUS:
We go hashing, we go hashing,
We go hashing once a week,
With the ________ Hashers,
We go bonkers once a week.
Prehistoric treetop monkeys,
Taught us how to jump and fuck,
But they had no hashing spirit,
That we have is our good luck.
Cro-Magnon and other cavemen,
Did not live for very long,
They were just as wild as we are,
But they got the hashing wrong.
In the early Middle Ages,
Nuns and monks had little fun,
They had wine and fornication,
But they lacked a decent run.
Billy Shakespeare wrote a sonnet,
More than twenty pages long,
All about the joys of hashing,
We can do it in a song.
Recent surveys of the country,
Show that only magic will,
Save the nation from perdition,
And we have the saving skill.
Girls and boys and other sexes,
Stand up tall and sing out clear:
We shall never be athletic,
We just do it for the beer.
WERE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT?
Melody – Are You Lonesome Tonight?
by Hazukashii, Yongsan HHH
Were you lonesome tonight,
Was the hash out of sight,
Are you sorry you strayed from true trail?
Did your throat feel real dry,
Underneath the hot sky,
When you thought of the beer did you wail?
Are the sores on your feet, raw and filled up with puss?
When you gazed down the road, did you pray for a bus?
Are your legs filled with pain,
Will you shortcut again,
Tell me fool, were you lonesome tonight?
WHINING POEM
By Teats de Swamp, Carolina Trash HHH
I’m not black
I’m not white
The color of my skin tonight
Is Bleeding Red, with Mud of Brown,
(the hash trail was not laid downtown)
Greenish slime, and ooze of yellow.
(Gispert was a jolly fellow)
I don’t care. As you can tell
Down-downs made me drunk as hell
Look to the sky! The full moon is shining
So On!On! into the night
AND QUIT YOUR WHINING!
WHITE RABBIT
Melody – White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane)
Composed by Broomhilda, Long Beach HHH
Note: this song was composed for the Long Beach HHH 1069th Run, aka “Hashstock”
One beer makes you happy,
Ten beers make you crawl,
And the beer that O’Doul’s gives you,
Don’t do anything at all.
Go ask Blow Boy how he got that tall.
And if you go chasing rabbits,
You might just lose the trail,
Til a whistle-blowing hasher,
Will help lead you to the ale.
Just ask Fungus, when his short cuts fail.
When policemen in their squad cars pull up & tell you “move along,”
We’ll just find another place to drink beer & sing a song,
When you’ve just had jello shooters,
And your mind is movin’ slow,
Just ask Pokey – I think she’ll know.
When Hashit has been given & there’s nothing left to dread,
When down-downs are all over,
And the beer is mostly head,
Just remember what the GM’s said,
“Drain the keg,”
“Drain the keg.”
THE WILD HASHER
Melody – The Wild Rover
Contributed by Stray Dog
I’ve been a wild Hasher for many a year,
And spent some time chasing the women and beer.
But now I’m returning with an itch and a sore,
I swear I will never be wanking no more.
CHORUS:
And it’s no nay never (pause, then clap, clap, clap)
No never no more,
Will I plaaay the wild Hasher,
No neveeer no more.
I went to a whorehouse where I’d often been,
And told to the madame what plight I was in.
She said she was sorry, but what could she say,
In that state of health, I could get me no lay.
I took out my pecker, such source of delight,
For many a girl during many a night.
But the landlady said, “You’ve just run out of luck,
I won’t let you have any girl for a fuck.
I’ll return to my parents, confess what I’ve done,
And ask them to pardon their lost Hashing son.
And if they forgive me, as oft times before,
I swear I will never be wanking no more.
YELLOW IS THE COLOR
Melody – Yellow is the Color of My True Love’s Hair
Yellow is the color of my true love’s hair,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, my true love’s hair,
And it’s the color of the boils on my bum,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
Red is the color of the setting sun,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, the setting sun,
And it’s the color of my foreskin caught in my fly,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
Yellow is the color that brings me cheer,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, that brings me cheer,
And it’s the color of the carrots in my beer,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
Green is the color of all that grows,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, of all that grows,
And it’s the color of the boogers up my nose,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
Brown is the color that makes me dance,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, that makes me dance,
And it’s the color, it’s the color of my underpants,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
Blue is the color that makes me stop,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, that makes me stop,
And it’s the color of the vein in my pork chop,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
White is the color of the winter snows,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm, the winter snows,
And it’s the color of the cheese between my toes,
When I’m hashin’, ah-humm, when I’m hashin’, ah-humm.
YESTERDAY
Melody – Yesterday (Beatles)
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Yesterday,
All my muscles seemed to feel OK,
Now my body doesn’t work today,
Oh I went hashing yesterday.
Muscles ache,
They’d be better if I’d stayed in bed,
Now it feels as if they’re made of lead,
Wish I had stayed at home instead.
Why I ran that hash,
Was so rash,
But what the heck?
Now it’s clear,
I’m a mere,
Physical wreck.
Bloodshot eyes,
And my tongue is twice its normal size,
It’s at times like this I realize,
Hashing isn’t all that wise.
Why I drank that beer,
Isn’t clear,
It’s just a blur.
I don’t feel so young,
And my tongue,
Is lined with fur.
Yesterday,
Hashing seemed a healthy game to play,
Now my body is in disarray,
Oh I went hashing yesterday
(mmm-mm-mmm…..)
YOU AIN’T NOTHIN’ BUT A HASHER
Melody – You Ain’t Nothin’ But A Hound Dog
By Twinkie & Lady Fingers, Austin HHH
You ain’t nothin’ but a Hasher,
A-humpin’ all the time,
You ain’t nothin’ but a Hasher,
A-humpin’ all the time.
You ain’t never caught a hare,
And you ain’t no friend of mine.
When I said you was high class,
Well, that was just a lie,
When I said you was high class,
Well, that was just a lie.
You ain’t never caught a hare,
And you ain’t no friend of mine.
You ain’t nothin’ but a Hasher,
A-humpin’ all the time,
You ain’t nothin’ but a Hasher,
A-humpin’ all the time.
You ain’t never caught a hare,
And you ain’t no friend of mine.
YOU ARE MY HASHIT
Melody – You Are My Sunshine
Performed by LAHHH harriettes at AIH ’93, Calgary, Alberta, Canada, September 2, 1993
CHORUS:
You are my hashit, my loving hashit
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know boys how much we love them
Please don’t take my hashit away.
The other day boys, while we were hashing
We saw our GM masturbate
We saw two others auto-hashing
And then the beer truck was late.
No need to hurry, no need to worry
They can do hash crimes every day
But we’ll never tell on, these other hashers
They might take our hashit away.
It’s always hard, and it’s always ready
And if you bite it, it won’t scream
It will be there in the morning
And if pressed it will wait while I preen.
You don’t have to lubricate it
Buy it presents, or give it head
You can tell it, all your secrets
And no one will hear a word that you said.
It’s not too drunk and, it’s not too tired
It’s not too quick and, it feels no pain
And if your toilet, should overflow girls
What good’s a dick to unclog a drain!
YOUR HAND WAS MADE TO STROKE MY GLAND
Melody – This Land is Your Land
Composed by Flamin’ Asshole and Nabob, Emerald Coast HHH; contributed by M.I.A.
CHORUS:
This hand is your hand, this gland is my gland,
So rub it slowly, to make my thing stand.
Let’s play forever, we’ll cum together,
Your hand was made to stroke my gland.
As we were driving, on separate highways,
We heard the faint cries of “On On my way.”
With whistles blowing, the beer was flowing,
Your hand was made to stroke my gland.
We showed up Friday and partied hardy,
We fucked till morning, and then we partied.
Played with eachother, and soon discovered,
Your hand was made to stroke my gland.
As we got closer, there was an odor,
It was your pussy, upon my boner.
Your tits were shaking, my balls were breaking,
Your hand was made to stroke my gland.
In Jacksonville we all came together,
Showed tits and asses, despite the weather.
From the Emerald Coasters, to those with odors,
Your hand was made to stroke my gland.
ZIPPY THE RED-NOSED HASHER
Melody – Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
By Dr D, Ft Eustis HHH
You know Magic and Mullet and Rambo and Mr Spock
Satan and Stray Dog and Mu-Sick and Shuttle Cock,
But do you re-call the most famous Hasher of all . . .
Zippy the red-nosed Hasher,
Had a bit too much to drink,
And if you ever saw him.
You would even say he stinks.
All of the other Hashers,
Used to laugh and call him names,
They never let poor Zippy,
Join in any orgy games.
Then one night at the InterHash,
The GM came to say,
Zippy with your ass so tight,
Won’t you let me ride you tonight?
Then all the Hashers loved him,
And they shouted out with glee,
Zippy the red-nosed Hasher
You better get checked for HIV!
——————————————————————————–
OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS
Baby Seal Song
Bestiality’s Best (I)
Bestiality’s Best (II)
Bitch, a Dog
Bye Bye Blackbird
Cats on the Rooftops
Cock Robin
Cow Kicked Nelly
Cuckoo
Dead Dog Rover
Dickey Louse
Dingo
Doggies’ Meeting
Duck Ditty
Friendly Little Cat
Fuck a Duck
Gomez the Chihuahua
Hedgehog Song
Hog Calling Time in Nebraska
Hole in the Elephant’s Bottom
I Need a Sheep
Little Bird
Little Brown Mouse
Lobster Song
MacDonald’s Deformed Farm
Moose Song (I)
Moose Song (II)
Moose Song (III)
Moose Song (IV)
My Girlfriend’s a Bit of a Beast
Old Brown Cow
Pussy Cat Song
Rhode Island Red
Sexual Life of the Camel
Skippy the Squirrel
Sole Song
Teddy Bears’ Picnic
Three Blind Jellyfishes
Up Jumped the Monkey
Virgin Sturgeon
Wild West Show
Woodpecker Song
Yellow Bird
Yogi Bear Song
BABY SEAL SONG
Melody – That Good Old Mountain Dew
Way up north where it is cold, you know they ain’t got gold
They all make their living from the seal skins they’ve sold.
Me I like the killing, because it’s so fulfilling
And I hate to see a baby seal grow old.
CHORUS:
You don’t bludgeon a seal ’cause you want a meal
You do it cause you want to hear those little suckers squeal.
You hit ’em on the head, and you do it just for kicks
And you poke out their eyes with your eye-pokin’ sticks.
(Two – Three – Four)
My daddy was a little mean, my mama was a bit obscene,
Maybe that’s the reason for the way that I feel.
You might not believe me, but my woman wants to leave me
So I guess I’ll take it out on a baby seal.
The Liberals want to lock me up because I kill the seal pups
And tie their fur up into little bales.
I know that it won’t be long ’til all the baby seals are gone
So I guess I’ll just start wiping out the whales.
Slice ’em, dice ’em, roto-till ’em, chop ’em up or just plain kill ’em,
Their fur comes off with just one easy peel (RIP, RIP, RIP)
People, people don’t you cry cause I know that when I die
I’ll be coming back as a baby seal. . . .
BESTIALITY’S BEST (I)
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
The first version of this song requires a pretty good memory, or at minimum enough wit to think of rhymes on the spot. Which explains why hashers almost always sing the second version . . .
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Bestiality’s best, boys,
Bestiality’s best – FUCK A WALLABY!
Bestiality’s best, boys,
Bestiality’s best.
ALTERNATE CHORUS:
Bestiality’s best, boys,
Bestiality’s best – FUCK YOUR WALLABY!
Give hetero sex a rest, boys,
Bestiality’s best
Tie me wallaby down, boys,
Tie me wallaby down,
You can’t fuck him when he’s jumping around, boys,
So tie me wallaby down.
Change your luck with a duck, Chuck,
Change your luck with a duck,
A duck’s a marvelous fuck, Chuck,
So change your luck with a duck.
A drake’s the best all around, mate,
A drake’s the best all around,
Its entry’s surrounded by down, mate,
A drake’s the best all around.
A camel’s a hell of a lay, Kay,
A camel’s a hell of a lay,
Humping the hump, as they say, Kay,
A camel’s a hell of a lay.
A moose is no bloody use, Bruce,
A moose is no bloody use,
She’s big, she’s mean, and she’s loose, Bruce,
A moose is no bloody use.
You can shoot your load in a toad, dude,
You can shoot your load in a toad,
If there’s nothing else to be rode, dude,
You can shoot your load in a toad.
Me wife was raped by an ape, Nate,
Me wife was raped by an ape,
She’s in marvellous sexual shape, Nate,
Ever since she was raped by an ape.
A rhino’s a hell of a treat, Pete,
A rhino’s a hell of a treat,
The horniest thing on four feet, Pete,
A rhino’s a hell of a treat.
A mongoose is no piece of cake, Jake,
A mongoose is no piece of cake,
He’ll attack your one-eyed snake, Jake,
A mongoose is no piece of cake.
You can come again in a hen, men,
You can come again in a hen,
When you’ve had everything else in the pen, men,
You can come again in a hen.
I tried to roger a badger, boys,
I tried to roger a badger,
A badger’s a hell of a dodger, boys,
You just can’t roger a badger.
You can go the course on a horse, Morris,
You can go the course on a horse,
There’s lots of animals worse, Morris,
You can go the course on a horse.
You can try your log in a frog, boys,
You can try your log in a frog,
If it’s the only thing in the bog, boys,
You can try your log in a frog.
You can stick your pole in a mole, Cole,
You can stick your pole in a mole,
If your pole’s incredibly small, Cole,
You can stick your pole in a mole.
(alternate verse)
You can stick your pole in a mole, boys,
You can stick your pole in a mole,
If you can’t find a big enough mole, boys,
Then use the bloody mole hole.
You can try to screw a red ‘roo, Lou,
You can try to screw a red ‘roo,
Be careful it doesn’t screw you, Lou,
When you try to screw a red ‘roo.
An ostrich can give you a ride, Clyde,
An ostrich can give you a ride,
When you get your weapon inside, Clyde,
An ostrich’s a real wild ride.
You can try getting bare with a bear, Clare,
You can try getting bare with a bear,
But he’s attached to his hair, Clare,
So don’t try to make him get bare.
Screwing a turtle’s a lark, Mark,
Screwing a turtle’s a lark,
If you’ve got foreskin like bark, Mark,
Then screwing a turtle’s a lark.
A gator is tricky to boff, Toff,
A gator is tricky to boff,
Wrong end and you’ll get it bit off, Toff,
A gator is tricky to boff.
Any old beast for a fuck, Chuck,
Any old beast for a fuck,
Even an Irishman’s luck, Chuck,
When you need a beast for a fuck.
You can get it on with an iguana, Donna,
You can get it on with an iguana,
But only if you really wanna, Donna,
You can get it on with an iguana.
Put your log up a dog, Claude,
Put your log up a dog,
Don’t you fancy a dog, Claude,
Put your log up a dog, ’cause . . .
MORE VERSES:
Stick your lug in a slug, Doug (Aren’t you hot for a slug, Doug?)
Slip your slew to a ewe, Lou (Don’t you dream of a ewe, Lou?)
Get turned on by a duck, Chuck (Doesn’t that make you go quack, Chuck?)
Tickle the clit of a gnat, Matt (Isn’t that just where it’s at, Matt?)
Rough love with a horse, Boris (You gotta use force with a horse, Boris)
BESTIALITY’S BEST (II)
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
Version two is far less challenging . . . you simply repeat the same line all through the verse, as in:
Make a llama a mama, boys,
Make a llama a mama – BESTIALITY!
Make a llama a mama, boys,
Make a llama a mama, ’cause . . .
More verses, courtesy of Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4:
Stick your dork in a stork
Make an eel squeel
Rub your beaver on a retriever
Rub your box on a fox
Rub your clitoris on a hippopotamus
Rub your clitty on a kitty
Rub your cunt on an elephunt
Rub your twat on an ocelot
Grind your mound on a hound
Drip your juice on a moose
Give your milk to an elk
Drip your yeast on a wildebeest
Cunnilingo with a dingo
Fool with the tool of a mule
A dirty weekend in Wirral with a squirrel
Any which way with a jay
Anyway you can with a pelican
Be a queer with a deer
Be a rotter with an otter
Be very pleasant to a pheasant
Bring a flea to her knees
Chuck your sperm in a worm
Come from behind with a hind
Do an illegal with an eagle
Do it funky with a monkey
Down the throat of a goat
Drink the pee of a bee
Drop some goo in a shrew
Ejaculate in a snake
Get a suck from a duck
Get in deep with a sheep
Get it out for a trout
Get the pox off a fox
Get under the tail of a snail
Sow oats with some stoats
Get your release in a fleece
Give a half to a giraffe
Give a lickin’ to a chicken
Give some cock to a croc
Give your gerbil some verbal
Give your milk to an elk
Go a rounder with a flounder
Go and defile a crocodile
Go the whole way with a moray
Be a pimp for a chimp
Have a cracker with a quacker
Have a deer from the rear
Have a filler with a gorilla
Have a frig with a pig
Have a fuck with a duck
Have a goose with a moose
Have a hug with a bug
Have a lark with an aardvark
Have a rape with an ape
Have a screw with a shrew
Have a shag with a stag
Have a shaggin’ with a dragon
Have a squirm with a worm
Have a toss with a hoss
Help old Watson with a dachshund
In a heap with a sheep
In the Bahamas with some llamas
In the dark with a shark
In the ear of a deer
In the esophagus of an octapus
In the lake with a drake
In the lug of a slug
In the sack with yak.
Have intercourse with a horse
Lick the clit of a nit
Make it coarse with a horse
Make it limp in a chimp
Make it twirl in a squirrel
Make it wonky with a donkey
Make love with a dove
Make some porn with a unicorn
Mate a ‘gator then fellate her
In a bag with a stag
In the bog with a dog
On a honeymoon with a raccoon
On a train with a crane
On the lawn with a prawn
On top of the easel with a weasel
Part the hare of a mare
Put it in the mid of a squid
Put it in the mouth of a sloth
Put it through a gnu
Put your cock in a peacock
Put your noodle to a poodle
Put your thang in an orangutan
Rub the thigh of a fly
Shoot your load in a toad
Shove your log in a dog
Shove your willy up a filly
Sixty-nine with a swine
Skull fuck a duck
Stick you rod up a cod
Stick your dork in a stork
Stick your needle in a beetle
The best course is a horse
Up the ass of a bass
Up the back of a yak
Up the box of a fox
Up the fanny of a nanny
Up the flue of a shrew
Up the hole of a mole
Up the rear of a deer
Up the spout of a trout
Up the tail of a whale
BITCH A DOG
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
Bitch, a dog, a female dog,
Itch, a place for you to scratch,
Hitch, I pull my knickers up,
Grab, another word for snatch,
Bath, a place for making gin,
Sex, another word for sin,
Prick, a needle going in,
And that will bring us back to
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch . . .
BYE BYE BLACKBIRD
Melody – Bye Bye Blackbird
Once a boy was no good,
Took a girl into the wood,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Laid her down upon the grass,
Pinched her tits and slapped her ass,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Took her where nobody else could find her,
To a place where he could really grind her,
Rolled her over on her front,
Shoved his wank right up her cunt,
Blackbird, bye, bye.
But this girl she was no sport,
Took her story to a court,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Told her story in the morn,
All the jury had a horn,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Then the judge came to his decision,
The poor sod got eighteen months in prison,
So next time, boy, do it right,
Stuff her twat with dynamite,
Blackbird, bye, bye.
CATS ON THE ROOFTOPS
Melody – Do Ye Ken John Peel
(Take turns leading verses)
When you wake up in the morning with the devil of a stand,
From the pressure of the liquid on the seminary gland,
If you haven’t got a woman use your own horny hand,
As you revel in the joys of masturbation.
CHORUS:
Cats on the rooftop, cats on the tiles,
Cats with the clap and cats with piles,
Cats with their arseholes wreathed in smiles,
As they revel in the joys of fornication.
The Regimental Sergeant Major leads a miserable life,
He can’t afford a mistress and he doesn’t have a wife,
So he puts it up the bottom of the Regimental Fife,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The Australian lady emu when she wants to find a mate,
Wanders round the desert with a feather up her date,
You should see that feather, when she meets her destined fate,
As she revels in the joys of fornication.
The poor domestic doggie, on his chain all day,
Never gets a chance to get himself a lay,
So he licks himself in a frantic way,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The labors of the poofter find but little favor here,
But the morally leprous bastard has a peaceful sleep, I fear,
As he dreams he rips a red-un up some dirty urchin’s rear,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The dainty little skylark sings a very pretty song,
He has a ponderous penis fully forty cubits long,
You should hear his high crescendo, when his mate is on the prong,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The whale is a mammal, as everybody knows,
He takes two days to have a shag, but when he’s in the throes,
He doesn’t stop to take it out; he piddles through his nose,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
When you find yourself in springtime with a surge of sexual joy,
And your wife has got the rag on and your daughter’s rather coy,
Then jam it up the backside of your favorite choirboy,
As you revel in a smooth ejaculation.
The poor old rhinoceros, so it appears,
Never gets a grind in a thousand years,
But when he does, he makes up for arrears,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
In Egypt’s sunny clime, the crocodile,
Gets a flip only once in a while,
But when he does, it floods the Nile,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The wild boar in the mud all day,
Thinks of the sows that are far, far away,
And the corkscrew motion of half a day,
As he revels in the joys of masturbation.
Now a funny old fish is the old sperm whale,
With a funny little diddle tucked beneath his tail,
And he rides his missus in the teeth of a gale,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
Now I met a girl who had a great rear,
And she gave me a dose of gonorrhea,
Fools rush in where angels fear,
As I reveled in the joys of fornication.
Little Mary Johnson will be seven next July,
She’s never had a naughty, but she thought she’d like to try,
So she took her daddy’s walking stick and did it on the sly,
As she reveled in the joys of fornication.
Long-legged curates grind like goats,
Pale-faced spinsters shag like shoats,
And the whole damn world stands about and gloats,
As they revel in the joys of fornication.
The ostrich in the desert is a solitary chick,
Without the opportunity to dip its wick,
But whenever it does, it slips in thick,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The ape is small and rather slow,
Erect he stands a foot or so,
So when he comes it’s time to go,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The flea disports among the trees,
And there consorts with whom he please,
To fill the land with bastard fleas,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The elephant’s prong is big and round,
A small one scales a thousand pound,
Two together rock the ground,
As they revel in the joys of fornication.
The camel likes to have his fun,
His night is made when he is done,
He always gets two humps for one,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The donkey is a lonely bloke,
He hardly ever gets a poke,
But when he does he lets it soak,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The orangutan is a colorful sight,
There’s a glow on its arse like a pilot light,
As it jumps and it leaps in the night,
As it revels in the joys of fornication.
The hippopotamus, so it seems,
Very, very rarely has wet dreams,
But when he does he comes in streams,
As he revels in the joys of fornication.
The oyster is a paragon of purity,
And you can’t tell the he from the she,
But he can tell and so can she,
As they revel in the joys of fornication.
A thousand verses all in rhyme,
To sit and sing them seems a crime,
When we could better spend our time,
Reveling in the joys of fornication.
COCK ROBIN
Melody – Who Killed Cock Robin
Who killed cock robin?
“I,” said the sparrow,
“With my bow and arrow,
I killed cock robin.”
CHORUS (WORDS & ACTIONS):
Oh-h-h-h the birds of the air said,
Fuck it! Let’s chuck it!
When they heard cock robin
Had kicked the fucking bucket!
When they heard-d-d-d cock robin-n-n-n
Had kicked the fucking bucket!
Who saw him die?
“I,” said the fly,
“With my little eye,
I saw him die.”
Who’ll take his blood?
“I,” said the mole,
“With my little bowl,
I’ll take his blood.”
Who’ll dig his grave?
“I,” said the owl,
“With my little trowel,
I’ll dig the grave.”
Who’ll ring the bell?
“I,” said the bull,
“With my mighty tool,
I’ll ring the bell.”
Who’ll say the prayer?
“I,” said the rook,
“With my little book,
I’ll say the prayer.”
COW KICKED NELLY
Melody – Turkey in the Straw
Variation contributed by Thurston Bowel the Turd, Silicone Valley HHH
CHORUS:
Oh, the cow kicked Nelly in the belly last night (three times)
But the farmer says she’ll be all right.
LEADER: Second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder and a little bit worse.
(repeat chorus)
LEADER: Third verse, same as the first . . .(and so on through ten verses, each louder and worse than the one before, or until stoned by the pack)
Variation:
The cow kicked Nelly in the belly in the barn.
And the doctor said it wouldn’t do her any harm.
Second verse, same as the first. Just a little bit louder and a little bit worse.
THE CUCKOO
Melody – ???
The cuckoo is a funny bird,
Who sits in the grass,
With his wings neatly folded,
And his beak up his ass.
In this strange position,
He can only say, “Twit!”
‘Cause it’s hard to say, “Cuckoo,”
With a beak full of shit.
DEAD DOG ROVER
Melody – I’m Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover
I’m looking over,
My dead dog Rover,
That I over ran with the mower.
One leg is missing,
The other is gone,
The third leg is shredded,
All over the lawn.
You see there’s no use explaining,
The one remaining,
It’s spinning on the carport floor
(the carport floor),
I’m looking over,
My dead dog Rover,
That I over ran, that I over ran,
That I over ran with the mower!
DICKEY LOUSE
Melody – Mickey Mouse Theme
by Lubejob, Eugene HHH
Who’s the little blood sucker that’s after you and me?
D-I-C, K-E-Y, L-O-U-S-E!
Hi there, hey there, ho there, he’s as hungry as can be,
D-I-C, K-E-Y, L-O-U-S-E!
Dickey Louse (scratchy muff!)
Dickey Louse (scratchy muff!)
Forever may he hold your hairy crotch, Tight, Tight, Tight!
When you join up at the hips he’ll jump from you to me!
D-I-C, K-E-Y, L-O-U-S-E!
(Slowly)
D-I-C (Eat you real soon!)
K-E-Y (Why? Because I like you! [pointing around])
L-O-U-S-Eeee!
DINGO
Melody – Ghost Riders in the Sky
By Dingo, Hamersley HHH, contributed by J.R., Capital HHH
Note: Song is based on a true story, notorious in Australia, about a mother who claimed her missing baby was eaten by dingos during a camping trip to Ayers Rock.
Some Seventh Day Adventist went for a barbecue (barbecue, barbecue)
Where they met some dingoes that could eat much more than you (more than you, more than you)
Chorus:
Dingo, dingo
Beware of the dingo,
With a baby in its mouth
Lindy packed some vegies, but those dingoes wanted meat (wanted meat, wanted meat)
Kidneys and liver and arms and hands and feet (hands and feet, hands and feet)
Chorus
They searched and searched, and searched, and searched, all around Ayre’s rock (Ayre’s rock, Ayre’s rock)
But all they found were dog turds, and a baby’s sock (baby’s sock, baby’s sock)
Chorus
While the lawyers argued, Lindy got up the duff (up the duff, up the duff)
The dingoes were ecstatic, cos they hadn’t had enough (had enough, had enough)
Chorus
Lindy got the lawyers, to fuck the government (government, government)
For a million or more, enough to pay the rent (pay the rent, pay the rent)
Chorus
The loser was the taxpayer, it usually is that way (is that way, is that way)
Especially when those lawyers and journos have their say (have their say, have their say)
Chorus
The dingo is a noble beast, who merely likes to eat (likes to eat, likes to eat)
And a veggie-reared Adventist, must have been a treat (been a treat, been a treat)
Chorus
Journalists and lawyers, they are a rotten lot (rotten lot, rotten lot)
It was them and not the dingo, that they should have shot (should have shot, should have shot)
Chorus
And now our story’s over, there’s only one thing left to say (left to say, left to say)
The dingo likes to graze, on the seventh day (seventh day, seventh day)
Chorus
THE DOGGIES’ MEETING
Melody – God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen
The doggies held a meeting,
They came from near and far,
Some came by motorcycle,
Some came by motorcar.
Each doggy passed the entrance,
Each doggy signed the book,
Then each unshipped his arsehole,
And hung it on the hook.
One dog was not invited,
It sorely raised his ire,
He ran into the meeting hall
And loudly bellowed, “Fire!”
It threw them in confusion,
And without a second look,
Each grabbed another’s arsehole
From off another hook.
And that’s the reason why, sir,
When walking down the street,
And that’s the reason why, sir,
When doggies chance to meet,
And that’s the reason why, sir,
On land or sea or foam,
He will sniff another’s arsehole,
To see if it’s his own.
DUCK DITTY
Melody – ???
Contributed by Beerhead, Kobe HHH, Japan
A man’s best friend is his duck,
A duck’s got plenty of pluck,
And when you’re down on your luck,
They’re always good for a meal.
. . . it works well if you can persuade some idiot to quack once or twice at the end of each line.
FRIENDLY LITTLE CAT
Melody – Itself (sound file available at http://www.daytonhhh.org/friendlylittlecat.mp3)
Contributed by Catwoman
Kitty cat sittin’ in the parking lot. Sun came out and the pussy got hot. Hot pussy, such a friendly little cat MMMMMM hot pussy
Kitty cat came on to my front porch. Rain came down and the pussy got wet. Wet pussy, such a friendly little cat. MMMM hot wet pussy.
Kitty cat got in to my liquor one night. Drank all my whiskey and the pussy got tight. Tight pussy, such a friendly little cat MMM hot wet tight pussy
Kitty cat climbed into my rocking chair Rocked so hard that she rocked herself bare. Bald pussy, such a friendly little cat. Hot, wet, tight, bald pussy. I said hot wet tight bald pussy.
FUCK A DUCK
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
Fuck a duck,
A female duck,
Screw a baby kangaroo,
Finger bang an orangutan,
Let an elephant eat you,
FEEL the penis of an eel,
WHACK the asshole of a yak,
MASTURBATE with a gnu,
That will bring us back to
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck . . .
Repeat with motions, humming, silence, etc
GOMEZ THE CHIHUAHUA
Melody – ???
By Mu-Sick, Emerald Bay HHH, Florida
Well, I used to have a doggie and his name was Little Gomez,
Cause you see he was a Mexican Chihuahua.
There wasn’t much of him, but what there was, was all cajones.
He was certainly a randy little fella’.
Large dogs, small dogs, it mattered not to him,
The canine equivalent of Errol Flynn.
At the drop of a sombrero he’d jump up and get stuffed in,
Taking Gomez out for walks, it was embarrassin’.
I remember one day in the park his tally rose by four,
While in the square, a crowd was amassin’.
Two highly strung French Poodles, a golden Labrador,
And a Raccoon who just happened to be passin’.
I tried every way to curb his carnal appetite,
I kept him on a leash by day and locked him up at night.
I even put saltpeter in his doggie Meaty Bites,
But the only thing that might have worked was kryptonite.
The only thing that might have worked was kryptonite.
Then came that fateful day, when he tried to consummate,
A liaison with a St Bernard called Broadwin.
And although he was fighting quite well above his weight,
He didn’t let this awful prospect daunt him.
He nearly pulled it off, Oh what an acrobat.
Then Broadwin deposed and down she sat.
They say that after making love, you often feel quite flat
I’m sure that Little Gomez would agree with that.
I’m sure that Little Gomez would agree with that.
I buried Little Gomez in the park, his happy hunting ground.
A sad but fitting finale.
I had to dig a grave that was shallow, flat and round,
Cause he looked like a squashed tamale.
But I really miss my wee Chihuahua chum,
So I went down to the pet shop to get another one.
I went in feeling happy, but I came out feeling glum,
Cause the man down at the pet shop liked corny puns.
The man down at the pet shop liked corny puns.
And he said, “Yes, we have no Chihuahuas.
We have no Chihuahuas, today.
We have Dalmations, creations, results from all flirtations,
A half Pekingese, and a Char-pei.
But, Yes, we have no Chihuahuas.
We have no Chihuahuas, today.
THE HEDGEHOG SONG
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Bulldust
Bestiality sure is a fun thing to do
But I have to say this as a warning to you:
With almost all animals, you can have ball
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
CHORUS 1:
The spines on his back are too sharp for a man
They’ll give you a pain in the worst place they can
The result I think you’ll find will appall:
The hedgehog can never be buggered at all!
Mounting a horse can often be fun
An elephant too; though he weighs half a ton
Even a mouse (though his hole is quite small)
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
CHORUS 2:
The spines on his back are so awful thick
you’ll end up with naught but a painful prick.
He has an impregnable hole when curled up in a ball,
Hence the hedgehog can never be buggered at all!
Screwing a cow while she goes moo-moo
Will be entertaining to both her and you
Or you might try a tiger, if you have enough gall
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 1
A fish is refreshing, although a bit wet
And a cat or a dog can be more than a pet
Even a giraffe (despite being so tall)
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 2
You can manage a snake, though its poison might kill
It’s amazing how humping a camel will thrill
You can go with a snail if you slow to a crawl
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 1
You can ravish a sloth but it would take all night
With a shark it is faster, but the darned beast might bite
We already mentioned the horse, you may recall
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 2
You can roger a skunk if you can stand the smell
Or even an oyster, should he let go of his shell
A troll can be rocky if down you should fall
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 1
For slippery fun, you can cornhole an otter
Or pego a pig after parting his trotters
Or tumble a tapir, though the prospect appall
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 2
For prosimian fun, you can bugger a lemur
To bolster your name as a pervert and schemer
The lemurs cry “Frink!” as a coy mating call
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 1
Antipodean pranks — you can futter a wombat
Or strive with a ‘roo in venereal combat
Or hump a goanna — go on, do it all
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 2
A moose is amusing, a squid quite confusing
Or try on a rhino if you fancy a bruising,
Or mountin’ a mountain goat (careful, don’t fall!)
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
Chorus 1
You could thrust with a thrush if you fancy a climb,
Or pork a few piglets if you have the time,
A skinhead’s pet cat if you don’t mind a brawl,
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
HOG CALLING TIME IN NEBRASKA
Melody – Itself
When it’s hog calling time in Nebraska,
When it’s hog calling time in Nebraska,
When it’s hog calling time in Nebraska,
Then it’s hog calling time in Nebraska.
THE HOLE IN THE ELEPHANT’S BOTTOM
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Ed Cray
My ambition’s to go on the stage;
From this you can se that I’ve got ’em.
In pantomine I’m all the rage,
I’m the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
Oh! the girls think that I’m it,
As they sit in the stalls I can spot ’em,
And I wink at the girls in the pit
Through the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
One night we performed in a farce
And they stuffed up the bottom with cotton,
But it split and I showed my bare arse
Through the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
There are pockets inside in the cloth
For two bottles of Bass, if you got ’em.
But they hiss and they boo when I blow out the froth
Through the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
Now my part hasn’t got any words
But there’s nothing that can’t be forgotten,
I spend all my time pushing property turds
Through the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
Some may think that this story is good
And some may believe that it’s rotten,
But those that don’t like it can stuff it right up
The hole in the elephant’s bottom.
Should the Japanese make an attack,
Then hundreds of bombs they will drop ’em,
But we’ll keep ’em at bay with an Oerliken gun
Through the hole in the elephant’s bottom.
I NEED A SHEEP
Melody – Scotland the Brave
Bring me some whiskey, mother,
I’m feeling frisky, mother.
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
I need a lover, mother,
No, not my brother, mother.
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
Gerbils don’t make it, mother,
They just can’t take it, mother.
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
Owls, bats and other critters,
Just tend to give me jitters.
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
Sheep never talk about it,
They never ever doubt it.
Always so placid, affectionate and nice!
Give me that lanolin,
Better than flannel-in.
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
LITTLE BIRD
Melody – Military-Style Cadence Chant
Contributed by Chimp Pimp, Osan Bulgogi HHH
Little bird
With a yellow bill
Sat upon
My window sill
Lured him in
With a piece of bread
Then I smashed
His birdie head
I scooped him in
With a Dixie cup
Then I swallowed
Him right up
The morale of
The story is
If you want some head
Better eat your bread.
THE LITTLE BROWN MOUSE
Melody – Itself
Oh, the liquor was spilled on the barroom floor,
And the place was closed for the night,
When out from his hole crept a little brown mouse,
And sat in the pale moonlight.
Oh, he lapped up the liquor on the barroom floor,
And back on his haunches he sat,
And all night long you could hear him roar,
BRING ON THE GODDAMNED CAT!
OPTIONAL VERSE:
Oh, the cat came out and they had a little spat,
And the cat ate up on the mouse,
And the moral of the story is,
YOU CAN’T DRINK LIQUOR ON THE HOUSE!
THE LOBSTER SONG
Melody – The Chisholm Trail
“Oh, mister fisherman, home from the sea,
Have you got a lobster you will sell to me?”
CHORUS:
Singing ai-tiddly-ai, shit or bust,
Never let your ballocks dangle in the dust.
“Yes sir, yes sir, I have three,
And the biggest of the bastards I will sell to thee.”
So I took the lobster home, but I couldn’t find a dish,
So I put the fucking lobster where the missus has a piss.
In the middle of the night, as you well know,
The missus got up to have a heave ho.
Well, first there came a groan, and then there came a grunt,
And the bloody lobster grabbed her by the cunt.
The missus grabbed the brush, and I grabbed thebroom,
And we chased the fucking lobster round and round the room.
We hit it on the head, we hit it on the side,
We hit that fucking lobster till the bastard died.
Oh, the story has a moral, and this is it,
Always have a look before you take a shit.
That’s the end of my story, there isn’t any more,
There’s an apple up my asshole, and you can have the core.
Down in Nagasaki the monkey fucked the cat,
And all the cat could do was fuck the monkey back.
MACDONALD’S DEFORMED FARM
Melody – Old MacDonald Had a Farm
Contributed by Executive Spread, jHavelina HHH
Old MacDonald had a deformed farm, Ee i ee i o, And on his farm he had lisping snakes, Ee i ee i o With a hith, hith here, And a hith, hith there, Here a hith, there a hith, Everywhere a hith-hith, Old MacDonald had a deformed farm, Ee i ee i o.
Other verses:
Harelip dogs/with a mark mark here
Perverted frogs/with a rub it rub it here
Stuttering cows/with a mmm-mmm-moo mmm-mmm-moo here
Dyslexic sheep/with a aab abb here
Narcoleptic pigs/with a snort snort here
Tourettes chickens/with a cluck, shit, fuck, mother fucker, damn it here
Drug dealing ducks/with a crack crack here
MOOSE SONG (I)
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (some verses by Flying Booger, jHavelina HHH; and Satan, Pittsburg HHH)
CHORUS (SUNG WHILE MAKING ANTLERS ON HEAD WITH HANDS):
Moose, moose, I love a moose,
I’ve never had anything quite like a moose,
My life has been merry,
My women been loose,
But nothing compares to the love of a moose.
When I’m in the mood for a very fine lay,
I go to the closet and pull out some hay,
I open the window and spread it around,
Because moose will come running when there’s hay on the ground.
HARRIERS’ VERSES:
When I was a young lad I played with the girls,
I’d fondle their titties and twirl their curls,
But my true love ran off with a classmate named Bruce,
I never got treated that way by a moose.
Women like pearls and diamonds and cars,
I spend all my money on them in bars,
But a moose is content to be tied to a tree,
While I find other mooses to satisfy me.
Now I’ve made it with all kinds of beasties with hair,
I’d make it with snakes if their fangs were not there,
I’ve made it with walrus, two ducks and a goose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a moose.
Now gorillas are fine for a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers, they puts up a fight,
But it just ain’t the same when you slams your caboose
As the feeling you gets when you humps with a moose.
HARRIETTES’ VERSES:
All my past lovers did brag about size,
Those tales of twelve inches were nothing but lies,
But a moose is the size that a man ought to be,
That’s why from now on it’s mooses for me.
When I was much younger I read dirty books,
I stroked myself with each gazing look,
But nothing can make my eyes start to twinkle,
Then getting it off with that stud Bullwinkle.
Now that I’m older and into my years,
I’ll have you to know that I shed no tears,
While I lay by the fire with a glass of Mateus,
Playing hide the salami with Marvin the Moose.
MOOSE SONG (II)
Melody – Villikins and His Dinah (Sweet Betsy from Pike)
By Anne Bredon, contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4. This appears to be the original version of the “Moose Song.”
There’s an infamous song goin’ ’round ’bout a moose,
It’s really quite funny and quite full of juice,
But all of it’s told from a masculine view,
And a lot of us women want to get a piece too.
CHORUS:
Moose, moose, I want a moose,
I’ve never had anything quite like a moose.
I’ve had lots of others, my life has been loose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a moose.
I figured it all out one day by myself,
When my man went off and left me on the shelf,
He’d found him a new love, a nubile moose-ess,
Which gave me a bad case of rampant distress.
“What’s sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose,”
Said I as I set out to find me a moose,
But I ran into problems that men do not mind,
For male moose are seasonal creatures, you’ll find.
I hunted in winter, I hunted in spring,
I hunted all summer and found not a thing,
But I found my moose when leaves started to fall,
And . . . oh brother! did I have a ball.
With my arms ’round his barrel, my feet by his tail,
I hanged and we banged and we really did flail,
Bouncing and jouncing I came with a roar,
I never had had such a great lay before.
But autumn soon passed and so I said goodbye,
I’ll be here next year when the leaves start to fly,
Yes I will return when the leaves start to fall,
And we’ll ball and we’ll ball and we’ll ball and we’ll ball.
And so, my dear sisters, I have to confess,
Being balled by a moose, it is really the best,
But you’ll make out with others for most of the year,
For male moose are seasonal creatures, I fear.
A bear in the winter is furry and warm,
And if you don’t tickle, he’ll do you no harm.
In spring try an eagle, his feathers are light,
That is if you are not afraid of great height.
In summer, I fear, you must make do with men,
But, not to worry, soon fall comes again.
Then you can return to your own faithful moose, And revel in supremely scrumptious screws.
MOOSE SONG (III)
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
Version known to Walt Leipold, contributed by Ed Cray
When I’m in the mood for a very good lay,
I go to the closet and get me some hay,
I go to the woods and I spread it around,
For the moose come out when there’s hay on the ground
CHORUS:
And it’s moose! Moose! I want a moose!
I have never had anything quite like a moose!
I’ve had many women, my life has been loose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a moose
When I was a young man I did it with girls,
I fondled their breasties and played with their curls,
But my true love ran off with a salesman named Bruce…
Now, I’ve never been treated like that by a moose.
Well, I’ve done it with all sorts of beasties with hair,
I’d do it with snakes if their fangs weren’t there,
I’ve done it with llamas and sheepdogs and goose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a moose.
Oh, gorillas are fun on a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers can put up a fight,
But it’s not quite the same when I ram their caboose,
As the feeling I get when I hump on a moose.
Well, now that I’m old and advanced in my years,
When I look at my past I’ll shed me no tears,
As I sit in my rocker with a glass of Mateus,
Playing hide the salami with Millie the Moose!
MOOSE SONG (IV)
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
Version known to Joe Bethancourt, Thomas Payton, et al, contributed by Ed Cray
When I was a young girl (man) I used to like boys (girls),
I fondled their tights (bodies) and played with their toys (curls),
But me boy (girl) friend ran off with a salesman named Bruce,
You’d never get treatment like that from a Moose!
CHORUS:
So it’s Moose, Moose, I like a Moose,
I’ve never had anything quite like a Moose,
I’ve had many lovers, my life has been loose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a Moose!
Now when I’m in need of a very good lay,
I go to me stables and gets me some hay,
I opens me window and spreads it around,
‘Cause Moose always comes when there’s hay on the ground!
Now I’ve made it with all kinds of beasties with hair,
I’d make it with snakes if their fangs were not there,
I’ve made it with walrus, two ducks and a goose,
But I’ve never had anything quite like a Moose!
Now gorillas are fine for a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers, they puts up a fight,
But it just ain’t the same when you slams your caboose
As the feeling you gets when you humps with a Moose!
I’ve tried many beasties on land or on sea
I’ve even tried hump-backs that humped back on me!
Sharks are quite good, tho they’re hard to pull loose
But on dry land there is nothing quite like a moose!
Woodchucks are all right except that they bite
And foxes and rabbits won’t last thru the night!
Cows would be fun, but they’re hard to seduce
But you never need worry should you find a moose!
Step in my study, and trophies you’ll find
A black striped tiger and scruffy maned lion
You’ll know the elephant by his ivory tooth
And the one that’s a-winking, you know is the moose!
The lion succumbed to a thirty-ought-six
Machine guns and tigers I’ve proved do not mix
The elephant fell by a bomb with a fuse
But I won’t tell a soul how I did in the moose!
I’ve found many women attracted to me
A few of them have had me over for tea
Some say that they love me when they’re feeling loose
But I’d trade the world’s women for one lovely moose!
The good Lord made Adam, and then He made Eve
Said He: “If you sin now, I’ll ask you to leave!”
They left not because of Eve’s forbidden fruit
But ’cause Adam decided the moose there were cute!
The English are said to like boars who’ve had corn
The Celtics just dream of the young Unicorn
The Germans, it’s said, just need leather and rope
But give me a moose and I’ll no longer mope!
Now I’ve broken the laws in this god-awful state
They’ve put me in prison and locked up the gate
They say that tomorrow I’ll swing from a noose
But my last night I’ll spend with a good sexy moose!
Next morning the Governor’s word reached my ears
“We’ve commuted your sentence to ninety-nine years!”
“You won’t get parole; not a five minute’s truce,
And your friend goes to Sing-Sing, he’s so big-a-moose!”
(slowly)
Now that I’m old and advanced in me years,
I’ll look back on me life, and I’ll shed me no tears,
As I sit in me chair with me glass of Mateuse,
And play hide the salami with Marvin (Millie) the Moose!
MY GIRLFRIEND’S A BIT OF A BEAST
Melody – Unknown
They say that my girlfriend’s a bit of beast,
I have to admit that it’s true,
She’s an animal lover to say the least,
And now only a donkey will do.
She once climbed in the cage with a tapir,
Now they won’t let her into the zoo,
She was trying to persuade it to rape her,
But now only a donkey will do.
She’s done it with dogs,
She’s done it with hogs,
She tried with an ape,
But the monkey cried rape,
So now only a donkey will do,
Now only a donkey will do.
I got home one day and found her dog-knotted,
With the Rottweiler from next door,
By several neighbours she was spotted,
As the pair crept around on all fours,
The dog was panting, exhausted,
It plight couldn’t be ignored,
Can’t tell if it was willing or she forced it,
But my girl was crying out for more.
She’ll try with a goat,
Or curl up with a stoat,
She tried intercourse,
With a willing race horse,
But now only a donkey will do,
Now only a donkey will do.
They won’t let my girlfriend visit the farm,
Where she had a stable relationship,
With the Hereford bull that lived in the barn,
And the ram that serviced the sheep;
Cos the stallion the farmer rode to the hunt,
Was too tired to trot to the meet,
Now she keeps a donkey and performs some neat stunts,
Cos my girlfriend’s a bit of a beast.
She’ll do it for a laugh,
With a tiger or giraffe,
By a sheepdog she got tupped,
(But we didn’t keep the pups),
But now only a donkey will do,
Now only a donkey will do.
(add verses and choruses as mood dictates)
THE OLD BROWN COW
Melody – The Old Gray Mare
The old brown cow went pffftz up against the wall, pffftz up against the wall, pffftz up against the wall,
The old brown cow went pffftz up against the wall,
And the wall was covered in SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!
PUSSY CAT SONG
Melody – ???
Contributed by Zippy (copyrighted material)
My pussy cat, at my back door,
Scratched so long my pussy got sore,
Sore pussy. Sore pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
My pussy cat playing in the back lot,
Played so hard my pussy got hot.
Hot pussy. Sore, hot pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
My pussy cat sittin’ on the front steps.
It began to rain and my pussy got wet.
Wet pussy. Sore, hot, wet pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
My pussy cat rocking in a chair,
Rocked so long it lost all it’s hair.
Bald pussy. Sore, hot, wet, bald pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
My neighbor stole my pussy cat away from me,
But I went and set my pussy free.
Free pussy. Sore, hot, wet, bald, free pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
My pussy cat ran on this trail,
Got covered in mud from head to tail.
Stanky pussy. Sore, hot, wet, bald, free, skanky pussy. Just a friendly little cat.
RHODE ISLAND RED
Melody – Itself
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
Has anybody seen my cock,
My big Rhode Island Red?
He’s mostly pink, with a little bit of blue,
And he’s purple on his head (Gor Blimey).
He stands straight up in the morning,
And he gives me wife a shock,
Has anybody seen, anybody seen,
Anybody, anybody seen my cock?
He’s a right big-headed little upstart,
The best you’ve ever seen.
He could have got gonorrhea,
Instead he got gangrene.
He should have worn a condom,
But the silly sod forgot,
Has anybody seen, has anybody seen,
Has anybody seen my cock?
THE SEXUAL LIFE OF THE CAMEL
Melody – Eaton Boating Song (sometimes heard sung to My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean)
(Take turns leading verses)
The sexual life of the camel,
Is stranger than anyone thinks,
At the height of the mating season
He tries to bugger the Sphinx.
But the Sphinx’s posterior sphincter
Is clogged by the sands of the Nile,
Which accounts for the hump on the camel,
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile.
CHORUS:
Singing, bum-titty, bum-titty, titty-bum,
Bum-titty, bum-titty, aye.
Singing, bum-titty, bum-titty, titty-bum,
Bum-titty, bum-titty, aye.
In the process of civilization,
From the anthropoid ape down to man,
It is generally held that the Navy
Has buggered whatever it can,
Yet recent extensive researches
By Darwin and Huxley and Hall,
Conclusively prove that the hedgehog
Has never been buggered at all.
We therefore believe our conclusion
Is incontrovertibly shown,
That comparative safety on shipboard
Is enjoyed by the hedgehog alone.
Why haven’t they done it at Spithead,
As they’ve done it at Harvard and Yale,
And also at Oxford and Cambridge,
By shaving the spines off its tail?
So come all you hashers,
And to the occassion arise,
Grab yourselves a hedgehog,
And enjoy a real suprise.
The following instructions,
Will ensure you do not fail,
Simply ream out its ass with a hosepipe,
And shave the spines off its tail.
The sexual life of the ostrich,
Is hard to understand.
At the height of the mating season,
It buries its head in the sand,
And if another ostrich finds it,
Standing there with its ass in the air,
Does it have the urge to grind it,
Or doesn’t it bloody well care?
It was Christmas Eve in the harem,
The eunuchs all standing there,
A hundred dusky maidens,
Combing their pubic hair.
When along came Father Christmas,
Striding down the marble halls,
When he asked what they wanted for Christmas,
The eunuchs all answered, “Our balls!”
Oh, the old men were having a birthday,
Standing at the bar,
Thinking about the old times,
Thinking back so far.
When along came a youthful maiden,
By Christ she was so fair,
When she asked what they’d like for their birthday,
The old men all shouted, “Hair!”
My name is Cecil,
I come from Leicester Square,
I wear open-toed sandals,
And a rosebud in my hair.
For we’re all queers together,
Excuse us while we go upstairs,
For we’re all queers together,
That’s why we all go out in pairs.
My name is Basil,
My friend’s name is Bond,
When we go out together,
They call us Basilden Bond.
For we’re all queers together,
Excuse us while we go upstairs,
For we’re all queers together,
That’s why we go out in pairs.
I went for a ride on a “Puff Puff,”
I found I had to stand,
A little boy offered me his seat,
So I went for it with my hand.
For we’re all queers together,
Excuse us while we go upstairs,
For we’re all queer together,
That’s why we go out in pairs.
SKIPPY THE SQUIRREL
Melody – Frosty the Snowman
By Jim “Whiff” Montgomery of the Pittsburgh HHH, “Skippy” is based upon supposedly true events and was composed and performed during Americas InterHash ’89 in San Diego
Skippy the Squirrel is a jolly happy soul,
With his smashed out brains and his broken nose,
And some gravel up his hole.
Skippy the Squirrel is a hasher’s tale they say,
He was just too slow and the hashers know,
He was squished to death one day.
There must have been some magic,
In that old dead squirrel they found,
For when they tied him to the bus he began to fly around.
Oh, Skippy the Squirrel is as dead as he can be,
But the hashers say he can hash and play,
Just the same as you and me.
(happy whistle interlude)
Skippy the Squirrel knew the sun was hot that day,
So he said, “Lets run,
And we’ll have some fun, before I rot away.”
Down to the Apres, with a rope tied to his tail,
Flying here and there, all around the square,
Saying , “You’ll go straight to hell.”
He led them down the trail that day,
Right to a parking lot,
Where Monster Bator licked a girl,
Whose father called a cop.
Monster and Skippy had to hurry out of there,
But they waved good-bye,
Sayin ‘, “Don’t you cry, we’ll be back again next year.”
Thumpety thump thump, thumpety thump thump,
Hear those squirrelies die,
Thumpety thump thump, thumpety thump thump,
Look at Skippy fly.
THE SOLE SONG
Melody – The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers
Contributed by Yogi, East Grinstead HHH, UK
What a wonderful fish the sole is,
A wonderful fish is the sole . . .
Wonderful fish, served hot on a dish,
Are soles, are soles, are soles. . . .
TEDDY BEARS’ PICNIC
Melody – Teddy Bears’ Picnic
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
If you go down to the woods today,
You’re in for a big surprise.
If you go down to the woods today,
You’ll never believe your eyes.
‘Cause Mum and Dad are having a screw,
Uncle Frank is having a wank,
And Auntie D is having it off with Granddad.
Those angel bears have come on their bikes,
All dressed in their leather gear.
There’s gallons of scrumps all green with lumps,
And horrible Watney’s beer.
Now one of ’em downed a pint of it quick,
And then was promptly horribly sick,
And filled up Paddington Bear’s new wellies.
THREE BLIND JELLYFISHES
Melody – (sort of like the Monty Python “I Like Traffic Lights” song)
Contributed by Jammies
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One fell down . . . Ahhhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . One climbed back . . . HURRAY
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . one climbed back . . . HURRAY . . .
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One . . . more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . one climbed back . . . HURRAY ….
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . one climbed back . . . HURRAY ….
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . one climbed back . . . HURRAY . . .
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhhh
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more fell down . . . Ahhhhh
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
One more jelly fish fell down . . . Ahhhhh
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes
No blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait a minute . . . one climbed back . . . HURRAY . . .
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes
One blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes
Two blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one more climbed back . . . HURRAY
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes
Three blind jelly fishes sitting on a rock
Wait . . . one fell down . . . Ahhhhh
etc.
UP JUMPED THE MONKEY
Melody – None (this is a chant – leader first, repeated by pack)
Up jumped the monkey from the coconut grove. He was a cool motherfucker you could tell from his clothes. He wore a two button Nanny with a six button stitch. He was a hot fuckin’ cock suckin’ son of a bitch.
Up jumped the monkey from the coconut grove. Well he strode through the jungle with his prick in his hand. He said: “Look out women, I’m your bebop man!” Oh, he lined a hundred women up against the wall.
Up jumped the monkey from the coconut grove. He said: “Look out women, gonna fuck you all!” Well he fucked ninety-eight till his balls turned blue. Backed off, jacked off, and fucked the other two.
VIRGIN STURGEON
Melody – Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking
CHORUS:
Caviar comes from the virgin sturgeon,
The virgin sturgeon is a very fine fish,
The virgin sturgeon needs no urging,
That’s why caviar is my dish.
I gave caviar to my girlfriend,
She’s a virgin through and through,
Since I gave my girlfriend caviar,
There ain’t nothing she won’t do.
I gave caviar to my bow-wow,
All the other doggies looked agog,
He had what those bitches needed,
Wasn’t he a lucky dog?
I gave caviar to my grandpa,
Grandpa’s age is ninety-three,
Last time that I saw grandpa,
He’s chased grandma up a tree.
My father was a lighthouse keeper,
He had caviar for his tea,
He had three children by a mermaid,
Two were kippers, one was me.
THE WILD WEST SHOW
Melody – Itself
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
We’re off to see the Wild West Show,
The elephant and the kangaroo-o-oo,
Never mind the weather, as long as we’re together,
We’re off to see the Wild West Show.
Leader: Now here, ladies and gentlemen, in the first cage we have the laughing hyena.
Pack: The laughing hyena? Fantastic! Incredible! What the fuck is a laughing hyena? Tell us about the son-of-a-bitch!!
Leader: This animal lives up in the mountains and once every year he comes down to eat. Once every two years he comes down to drink, and once every three years he comes down for sexual intercourse. What the hell he has to laugh about I don’t know.
The Giraffe – This creature is the most popular animal in the animal kingdom. Why? Every time he goes into a bar he says, “Gentlemen, the high-balls are on me.”
The Famous Tattooed Lady – On the inside of her left thigh she has tattooed MERRY CHRISTMAS, and on the inside of her right thigh she has tattooed HAPPY NEW YEAR, and she’d like to invite you to come up between the holidays!
The Orangutan – This animal lives in the deepest jungle, and his scrotal sac is so pliant and flexible that as he swings from branch to branch his balls go ORANG-U-TANG, ORANG-U-TANG.
The Oster-reich – This animal, at the first sign of danger, buries its head in the sand and whistles through the ‘hole of the afternoon.
The Rhino-sauras – This animal, ladies and gentlemen, is reputed to be the richest in the world. Its name is derived from the Latin “rhino” meaning money, and “sore ass” meaning piles; hence, piles of money.
The Keerie Bird – This bird lives only in the Antarctic, and every time it lands on the ice it says, “Keerie, Keerie, Keeriest, it’s cold!”
Prince, the Rock ‘n’ Roll Star – Yes, ladies and gentlemen, living proof that Little Richard and Liberace were once man and wife!
The Leo-pard – Yes, folks, the leopard has one spot on its coat for every day of the year. What about leap year? George, lift up the leopard’s tail and show the lady the 29th of February.
The Winky Wanky Bird – Folks, by some mystery of nature, the nerves of this bird’s eyelids are connected to its scrotum. Every time it winks, it wanks, andevery time it wanks, it winks. Hey you, boy, stop throwing sand in the bird’s eye!
The Ele-phant – The elephant has an enormous appetite. In one day it eats two tons of hay, one dozen bunches of bananas, and twenty buckets of rice. Madam, please don’t stand too near the elephant. Madam? Madam? Oh, dear God! George, get the shovel!
The Mathematical Impossibility – Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the girl you see before you in this cage was ate before she was seven!
The Oozle Woozle Bird – These birds fly in a line ahead formation, and at the first sign of danger, the last bird flies up the asshole of the bird in front, and so on up the line. The remaining bird then flies around in ever-decreasing circles, finally disappearing up its own fundamental orifice, from which it proceeds to shower shit and derision in all directions.
The Tri-angular – Folks, this animal has a triangular orifice. Hence the pyramids and the YWCA.
The Second Tattooed Lady – On one leg she has tattooed FIRE, and on the other leg she had tattooed BRIMSTONE, and in between it looks like HELL!
The Gay-zelle – This pretty little four-footed animal you see on your right, ladies and gentlemen, wot has the peculiarity that every time it leaps from rock to rock it farts, and the scientists are still trying to determine whether it farts because it leaps or whether it leaps because it farts.
The Well-Known Oolie-Goolie Bird – This bird, wot as you will observe if you look carefully at it, has no legs, and is called what it is, ladies and gentlemen, because when the male of the species comes in to land you can hear him cry, “Ooh, me goolies! Ooh, me goolies!”
The French Pervertable – This fine automobile is the last of it’s kind, no longer for sale anywhere in the world. Notice the convertible top, the five-speed manual transmission, the automatic cruise control, and the dual halogen headlights. It seats two in the front and comfortably accomodates 69 in the back.
TheTattooed Cowgirl – The tattooed cowgirl has a tattoo of Roy Clark on her left thigh and a tattoo of Hank Williams on her right thigh . . . and who’s that in the middle, Willy Nelson?
The Antique Sales Lady – The Antique Sales Lady sells only period furniture . . . everything has stains on it.
The Plumb Line Bird – This bird spends most of its time high above the world’s oceans, circling in the jet stream until it spies what it is after. Immediately it folds its wings, dives toward the sea, and gathers an ever-increasing momentum until it reaches terminal velocity. At that precise moment it hits the surface of the sea but continues diving straight down, now with decreasing momentum, until, if it has got the timing precisely right, it comes to a stop behind a sardine which has just farted, whereupon it seizes the bubble in its beak for use in spirit levels.
The Circus Acrobat – If you will but observe the Circus Acrobat’s ass you will observe a tattooed M on one cheek and a corresponding M on the other. When he bends over he spells MOM. When he stands on his head he spells WOW. When he turns cartwheels, he spells WOW MOM WOW.
The Female Mathematician – This lady, folks, believes that this (hold fingers three inches apart) is twelve inches.
The Famous Oooh-Aaah Bird – The male of this species, ladies and gentlemen, resides at the North Pole while the female resides at the South Pole. At the appointed season the male Oooh-Aaah flies south from the North Pole and the female Oooh-Aaah flies north from the South Pole until they meet at the Equator, whereupon one can here them call, “Ooooooooooh-Aaaaaaaaaah!”
The Tri-Angular Iceberg – A most uncommon iceberg, ladies and gentlemen, where on the first side you will see an Indonesian keeping a private school, and on the second side an American keeping a private school, while on the third side you will observe a polar bear sliding up and down, keeping his privates cool.
The Homosexual Sparrow – This bird is so called, ladies and gentlemen, because sometimes he flies backwards for a lark.
The Infamous Fuccari Tribe – This tribe, as you will see, dear friends, is composed of small-statured people wot live in the middle of Africa, where the grass grows to an incredible height of 18 feet or more, and all day long the members of this tribe wander, calling, “Where the Fuccari? Where the Fuccari?”
The Fight Between the Snake and the Ostrich – (Please note that this one is limited only by the teller’s imagination and the audience’s patience. So far the Guinness Book of Records has refused to list the longest known version, but a respectable average would be around 15 minutes. What follows is a bare outline; embellish it as you will): In the left-hand corner, ladies and gentlemen, stands the ostrich (to be followed by a life history of the contestant, fight record, size of jock strap, etc.), while in the right-hand corner stands the snake (ditto). And there, ladies and gentlemen, goes the bell for round one (followed by a description of the fight – this round, and all subsequent rounds, should take at least three minutes of fast talking, and should all end in the same waywith the snake diving into the ostrich’s mouth, wriggling swiftly through the ostrich’s digestive apparatus, and emerging from it’s asshole. Because of this clever maneuver, each round goes to the snake, until the FINAL round, wherein the snake finally dives into the ostrich’s mouth, swiftly wriggles through the ostrich’s digestive apparatus, and is ABOUT to emerge from its asshole when the ostrich shoves its beak up its own asshole and says, “Now loop-the-loop, you bastard!”).
WOODPECKER SONG
Melody – Dixie
I put my finger in the woodpecker’s hole,
And the woodpecker said, “God bless my soul,
Take it out, take it out, take it out,
REMOVE IT!”
I removed my finger from the woodpecker’s hole,
And the woodpecker said, “God bless my soul,
Put it back, put it back, put it back,
REPLACE IT!”
OTHER VERSES:
Replaced/turn it round/REVOLVE IT!
Revolved/turn it back/REVERSE IT!
Reversed/in and out/RECIPROCATE IT!
Reciprocated/slow it down/RETARD IT!
Retarded/once again/REPEAT IT!
Repeated/let it go/RELEASE IT!
Released/pull it out/RETRACT IT!
Retracted/take a whiff/REVOLTING!
YELLOW BIRD
Melody – None (this is a chant – leader first, repeated by pack)
A little bird
With a little beak
Was sittin’ on
My toliet seat
I pushed him in
I flushed him down
I watched his ass
Go round and round
A Yellow bird
A yellow bill
Was sittin’ on
Mmy window sill
I lured him in
With a piece of bread
Then I smashed
His yellow head
A bigger bird
With a bigger bill
Was sittin’ on
My window sill
I lured him in
With a piece of bread
Then I smashed
His bigger head
The doctor came
To check their heads
He said for sure
These birds aren’t dead
Oh me Oh my
I’m such a klutz
I missed their heads
And crushed their nuts
The morale of
This story is
If ya can’t get head
(really loud) Use your bread!
Alternate ending:
The moral of
The story is clear.
If you kiss a bird
You’re probably queer.
Alternate ending:
The moral of
The story is
To get some head
You need some bread!
YOGI BEAR SONG
Melody – Camptown Races
(Take turns leading verses)
There is a bear in the deep dark woods,
Yogi, Yogi,
There is a bear in the deep dark woods,
Yogi, Yogi Bear.
CHORUS (REPEAT PREVIOUS VERSE):
Yogi, Yogi Bear,
Yogi, Yogi Bear,
There is a bear in the deep dark woods,
Yogi, Yogi Bear.
Other verses:
Yogi has a little friend, Boo-Boo, Boo-Boo
Boo-Boo has a girlfriend, Cyndi, Cyndi
Yogi has a girlfriend, Suzi, Suzi
Cyndi has a shaven snatch, Grizzly, Grizzly
Cyndi wears crotchless undies, Teddy, Teddy
Cyndi likes it on the ice, Polar, Polar
Cyndi gets what she deserves, Pregnant, Pregnant
Suzi likes it up the rear, Dirty, Dirty
Suzi’s boyfriend has no teeth, Gummi, Gummi
Suzi’s snatch it smells like cheese, Camel, Camel
Suzi she has great big tits, More than, More than (I can bear)
Suzi gets four bits an hour, Jingle, Jingle
Cyndi’s tampon has no string, Cotton, Cotton
Yogi didn’t use a condom, Daddy, Daddy
Boo-Boo likes it upside down, Koala, Koala
Boo-Boo has a twelve-inch cock, Cindy’s a lucky bear
Boo-Boo’s only three feet tall, Yogi’s a lucky bear
Boo-Boo likes it up the butt, Yogi’s a lucky bear
Yogi didn’t wipe his butt, Brown, Brown
Yogi uses Afro-Sheen, Black, Black
Yogi got a case of crabs, Itchy, Itchy
Yogi lights Kuwaiti farts, Saddam, Saddam
Boo-Boo likes to stroke his tool, Wanker, Wanker
Yogi also likes young boys, Poofter, Poofter
Song ender: Yogi he has HIV, Dying, Dying . . .
——————————————————————————–
THE SPOKEN WORD
A Dangerous Place
Ballad of Eskimo Nell
Farter From Sparta
Head Chant
Limericks
Poetry
Man Poem
Recitals
Shit List
Spam Skit
Street of the Thousand Assholes
Toasts
Two Shits of Verona
World According to Student Bloopers
A DANGEROUS PLACE
Twas just across the border,
On the banks of the Kangaroo,
My uncle owned a brothel,
And a fucking beauty too.
Resting her head in a spunk filled bed,
Was Nellie, sucking a roarer,
While on the floor, jacked up a whore,
Was my uncle, Dan McGraw.
Suddenly the lights went out,
A shot rang out,
A woman screamed,
Plop! Her guts fell out,
I got out.
What a cunt of a place that was.
THE BALLAD OF ESKIMO NELL
Dramatic Recitation
Gather round all you whorey,
Gather round and hear this story!
When a man grows old and his balls grow cold,
And the tip of his tool turns blue,
And it bends in the middle
Like a one-string fiddle,
He can tell you a tale or two.
So pull up a chair and stand me a drink
And a tale to you I’ll tell,
Of Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete,
And a harlot named Eskimo Nell.
When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete
Go forth in search of fun,
It’s Dead-eye Dick that slings the prick,
And Mexican Pete the gun.
When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete
Are sore, depressed, and sad,
It’s always a cunt that bears the brunt,
But the shootin’ ain’t so bad.
Now Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete
Lived down by Dead Man’s Creek,
And such was their luck they’d had no fuck
For nigh on half a week.
Just a moose or two and a caribou,
And a bison cow or so,
And for Dead-eye Dick with his kingly wick,
The action was mighty slow.
So do or dare this horny pair
Set forth for the Rio Grande,
Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick,
And Pete with his gun in his hand.
And as they blazed their noisy trail
No man their path withstood,
And many a bride, her husband’s pride,
A pregnant widow stood.
They reached the strand of the Rio Grande
At the height of a blazing noon,
And to slake their thirst and do their worst,
They sought Black Mike’s Saloon.
And as they pushed the great doors wide
Both prick and gun flashed free,
“According to sex, you bleeding wrecks,
You’ll drink or fuck with me.”
They’d heard of the man called Dead-eye Dick,
From Maine to Panama,
And with scarcely worse than a muttered curse,
Those dagos sought the bar.
The girls too knew of his playful ways
Down on the Rio Grande,
So forty whores pulled down their drawers
At Dead-eye Dick’s command.
They saw the fingers of Mexican Pete
twitch on the trigger grip,
And they didn’t waitat a fearful rate,
Those whores began to strip.
Now Dead-eye Dick was breathing quick
With lecherous snorts and grunts,
Soon forty asses were bared to view,
And likewise forty cunts.
Now forty asses and forty cunts,
If you can use your wits,
And if you’re slick at arithmetic,
Makes exactly eighty tits.
Now eighty tits are a gladsome sight
For a man with a raging stand,
It may be rare in Berkeley Square,
But not on the Rio Grande.
Now Dead-eye Dick had bungholed a few
On the last preceding night,
This he had done just to show his fun,
And to whet his appetite.
His phallic limb was in ramming trim
As he backed and took a run,
He made a dart at the nearest tart,
And scored a hole in one.
He bore her to the sawdust floor
And there he swived her fine,
And though she grinned it put the wind
Up the other thirty-nine.
When Dead-eye Dick lets loose his prick
He’s got no time to spare,
For speed and length combined with strength,
He fairly singes hair.
He made a dart at the next spare tart,
When into that harlot’s hell
Strode a gentle maid who was unafraid,
And her name it was Eskimo Nell.
By this time Dick had got his prick
Well into number two,
When Eskimo Nell let out a yell,
She bawled to him, “Hey you!”
He gave a flick of his muscular prick
And the girl flew over his head,
And he wheeled about with an angry shout,
His face and his prick burning red.
She stared our hero up and down,
His looks she seemed to decry,
With utter scorn she glimpsed the horn
That rose from his hairy thigh.
She blew the smoke from her cigarette
Over his steaming knob,
So utterly beat was Mexican Pete,
He failed to do his job.
It was Eskimo Nell who broke the spell,
In accents clear and cool,
“You cunt-struck shrimp of a Yankee pimp,
You call that thing a tool?”
“If this here town can’t take that down,”
She sneered to those cowering whores,
“Here’s one little cunt can do the stunt,
It’s Eskimo Nell’s, not yours.”
She stripped her garments one by one
With an air of conscious pride,
And as she stood in her womanhood,
They saw the great divide.
She seated herself on a table top
Where someone had left his glass,
With a twitch of her tits she crushed it to bits,
Between the cheeks of her ass.
She flexed her knees with supple ease,
And spread her legs apart,
With a friendly nod to the mangy sod,
She gave him the cue to start.
But Dead-eye Dick knew a trick or two,
He meant to take his time,
And a girl like this was sexual bliss,
So he played the pantomime.
He flexed his buttocks to and fro
And made his balls inflate,
Until they looked like the granite knobs
On top of a garden gate.
He blew his anus inside out,
His organ increased in size,
His mighty prick grew twice as thick,
Till it almost reached his eyes.
He polished it up with alcohol
And made it steaming hot,
To finish the job he sprinkled the knob
With a cayenne pepperpot.
Then neither did he take a run
Nor did he take a leap,
Nor did he stoop, but took a swoop,
And a steady forward creep.
With piercing eye he took a sight
Along his mighty tool,
And the steady grin as he pushed it in,
Was calculatedly cool.
Have you seen the giant pistons
On the mighty C.P.R.,
With the driving force of a thousand horse,
Well, you know what pistons are,
Or you think you do. But you’ve yet to learn
The ins and outs of the trick,
Of the work that’s done on a non-stop run
By a guy like Dead-eye Dick.
But Eskimo Nell was an infidel,
As good as a whole harem,
With the strength of ten in her abdomen,
And the rock of ages between.
She could take the stream of a lover’s cream
Like the flush of a water closet,
And she gripped his cock like the Chatsworth lock
On the National Safe Deposit.
But Dead-eye Dick would not come quick,
He meant to conserve his powers,
If he’d a mind he’d grind and grind
For a couple of solid hours.
Nell lay for awhile and then with a smile,
The grip of her twat grew keener,
With a squeeze of her thigh she sucked him dry,
Like a brand-new vacuum cleaner.
She performed this trick in a way so slick
As to set in complete defiance
The basic cause and primary laws
That govern sexual science.
She calmly rode through the phallic code
Which for years had stood the test,
And the ancient rules of the classic schools,
In a second or two went West.
And so my friends we come to the end
Of copulation’s classic,
The effect on Dick was sudden and quick,
And akin to an anesthetic.
He fell to the floor and knew no more,
His passions extinct and dead,
And he did not shout as his tool slipped out,
Although it was stripped to a thread.
Then Mexican Pete jumped to his feet
To avenge his pal’s affront,
With a jarring jolt his blue-nosed Colt,
He jammed it up her cunt.
He rammed it up to the trigger grip
And fired three times three,
But to his surprise she closed her eyes
And squealed in ecstasy.
She jumped to her feet with a smile so sweet,
“Bully,” she said, “for you.
Though I might have guessed that that was the best
That you poor pussies could do.”
“When next, my friend, that you intend
To sally forth for fun,
Buy Dead-eye Dick a sugar stick,
And yourself an elephant gun.”
“I’m going back to the frozen North,
Where cocks are hard and strong,
Back to the land of the frozen stand,
Where the nights are six months long.”
“It’s hard as tin when they put it in,
In the land where spunk is spunk,
Not a trickling stream of lukewarm cream,
But a solid frozen chunk.”
“Back to the land where they understand
What it means to fornicate,
Where even the dead sleep two to a bed
And the babies masturbate.”
“Back to the land of the grinding gland,
Where the walrus plays with his prong,
Where the polar bear wanks off in his lair,
That’s where they’ll sing this song.”
“They’ll tell this tale on the Arctic trail,
Where the nights are sixty below,
Where it’s so damn cold that the Rubbers are sold
Wrapped up in a ball of snow.”
“In the valley of death with bated breath
That’s where they’ll sing it too,
Where the skeletons rattle in sexual battle,
And the rotting corpses screw.”
“Back to the land where men are men,
Terra Bellicum.
And there I’ll spend my worthy end,
For the North is calling, ‘Come.'”
So Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete
Slunk out of the Rio Grande,
Dead-eye Dick with his useless prick,
And Pete with no gun in his hand.
When a man grows old and his balls grow cold,
And the tip of his tool turns blue,
And the hole in the middle refuses to piddle,
I’d say he was fucked, wouldn’t you?
THE FARTER FROM SPARTA
There was a young farter from Sparta,
A really magnificent farter,
On the strength of one bean
He’d fart “God Save the Queen,”
And Beethoven’s Seventh Sonata.
He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute,
Like a lark, like a lute,
This highly fartistic Caucasian.
He could whistle, could warble and hum,
By constricting the hole in his bum,
And make animal sounds,
Or fire artillery rounds,
With the force of a field cannon gun.
The fabulous farter from Sparta,
Performed at command by Royal Charter,
Did Brahms, Grieg and Mozart,
For “Piano and Fart,”
And for an encore he did Bach’s Toccata.
His repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.
With a good dose of salts
He could fart a waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.
He’s accompanied Oasis and Blur,
And done backing music for Cher,
Though his style is obscene,
It’s been used on big screen,
In sound effects on the movie Ben Hur.
He’d fart a gavotte for a starter,
And whiffle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Ood, boom, er-tum, tootle, yum tah-dah!
His basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the Marche Militaire.
When Sparta’s farter was truly on form,
His asshole could outplay a French horn,
He’d give all day recitals,
With the air from his vitals,
After a large plate of leeks and some corn.
This sparkling young farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare
Or Gilbert and Sullivan’s Mikado.
He could imitate jets supersonic,
Or play compositions symphonic,
He played Handel’s Messiah,
He reached top C and higher,
But only after a mammoth colonic.
A family size can of baked beans,
Could fuel the main movie themes,
Star Wars and some westerns,
Were most often requested,
Though the odour was somewhat obscene.
Spurred on by a very high wager
With an envious German named Bager,
He’d proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B Major.
He could play Holst’s Mars and Uranus,
By expelling the air from his anus,
He did Copacabana,
But his Carmina Burana,
Was proclaimed a cantus profanus.
This man with the musical arsehole,
Was asked to perform at a castle,
He ignited his gas,
Near exploded his ass,
And the Count cried out “Once more, you rascal!”
One day he was dared to perform
The William Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in wonderful form.
The Count hosted the concert with style,
And the queue to get in was a mile,
The farter ate leeks,
Lived on beans for two weeks,
Knowing his farts were on trial.
He practised by farting some tunes,
Till his arsehole made sounds like bassoons,
Symphonies, sonatas,
Serenades and cantatas,
And the theme from The Mouse on the Moon.
He played The Ride of The Valkyries,
And brought the whole crowd to their knees,
Women fainted and screamed,
At The Dambusters theme,
And The Flight of the Bumblebee.
He farted on feeling quite merry,
Did the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,
His farts echoed and swelled,
(And so did the smell),
And his face went as red as a cherry.
With a smell like a heap of manure,
He began the William Tell Overture,
They gasped as it started,
Cheered the farter from Sparta,
And soon they were screaming for more.
It went off in capital style,
As he farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite jolly,
He reached the Finale,
Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay him one bit,
Then, with arse thrown aloft
He suddenly coughed . . .
And collapsed in a shower of shit.
One mammoth turd blocked up his arse,
Around it no fart could be passed,
His bowel filled with farts,
From his arse to his heart,
And inflated his belly with gas.
All at once the poor farter exploded,
His expanding bowel overloaded,
The room filled with screams,
As gas-filled intestines,
Rose up to the ceiling and floated,
Like a string of long brown balloons,
His innards were strung round the room,
The odour was ripe,
So the Count lit his pipe,
And the whole place went up with a BOOM!
His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with these words:
“To the Fine Art of Farting, A Martyr.”
HEAD CHANT
Head? Who said head?
I’ll take some of that!
Oooh-rah!
And I did, and it was good,
And there was much rejoicing.
And then we fucked. We fucked for hours,
Uprooting trees, bushes, and flowers.
Frightening small children and woodland animals.
We fucked with power tools.
We fucked like Vikings, with horns on our head.
Head? Who said head?
I’ll take some of that!
Oooh-rah!
LIMERICKS
Melody (chorus only) – Mexican Hat Dance (Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay)
The chorus is sung, the limericks spoken. The object is to take turns telling limericks, with everyone singing the chorus between limericks. Whoever said the previous limerick usually yells out the personal insult in the chorus. (Limericks marked by “F.B.” are Flying Booger originals. The extensive collection of personal insults was contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4)
CHORUS:
Aye, aye, aye, aye,
(insert personal insult): Your mother’s a whore on a troopship,
So sing me another verse that’s worse than the other verse,
And waltz me around by my willie.
MORE INSULTS:
Your mother and father were brothers
Your brother fills empty cream donuts
Your father eats your brother’s cream donuts
Your sister eats bat shit off cave walls
Your mother sucks farts from dead chickens
Your mother and sister are brothers
Your sister leaves slime trails like snails
Your mother does squat thrusts on fireplugs
Your brother eats grandfather’s donuts
Your sister douches with Drano
Your sister swims after troop ships
(and catches them)
(and swims back)
Your sister’s in love with a carrot
Your sister goes down for a quarter
Your sister sucks moose cum off pine cones
Your father does eight-year old Brownies
Your mom uses Frisbees for diaphragms
Your sister got turned down by hashers
Your mother eats shit and lives
Your mother’s vibrator is made by John Deere
Your mother uses hamsters for tampons
Your sister rides bikes without seats
Your mother’s so dry the crabs carry canteens
Your mother goes down on Rush Limbaugh
Rush Limbaugh goes down on your sister
______
The limerick is furtive and mean;
You must keep her in close quarantine,
Or she sneaks to the slums
And promptly becomes
Disorderly, drunk, and obscene.
When a woman in strapless attire,
Found her breasts working higher and higher,
A guest, with great feeling,
Exclaimed, “How appealing!
Do you mind if I piss in the fire?”
There was a young man from Australia,
Who went on a wild bacchanalia,
He buggered a frog,
Two mice, and a dog,
And a bishop in fullest regalia.
There was a young lady named Anna,
Who stuffed her friend’s cunt with banana,
Which she sucked bit by bit,
From her partner’s warm slit,
In the most approved lesbian manner.
In the Garden of Eden sat Adam,
Just stroking the butt of his madam,
He was quaking with mirth,
For on all of the earth,
There were only two balls, and he had ’em.
There was a young lady named Alice,
Who pissed in the Archbishop’s chalice,
It was not for the need,
She committed the deed,
But simple sectarian malice.
A young married couple from Aberystwyth,
Knew another young couple they played whist with,
They all managed when able,
To reach under the table,
And play with what the other ones pissed with.
A mathematician named Fine,
Always showed her classes a good time,
Instead of multiplication,
She taught fornication,
And never got past sixty-nine.
There was a young dino named Barney,
Whose treatment of kids was quite smarmy,
He’d probe every hole,
Then swallow ’em whole,
Till his shit looked like children con carne.
There was a young lady from Munich,
Who was ravished one night by a eunuch,
At the height of her passion,
He slipped her a ration,
From a squirt gun concealed in his tunic.
There once was a woman from Phlox,
Who set dynamite off in her box,
To describe the sensation,
She cried with elation,
“It’s better than elephant cocks!”
A woman from South Carolina,
Placed fiddle strings ‘cross her vagina,
With proper sized cocks,
What was sex, became Bach’s
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.
An unfortunate fellow named Chase,
Had an ass that was badly misplaced,
He showed indignation,
When an investigation,
Proved that few persons shit through their face.
A certain young maiden from Babylon,
Decided to lure all the rabble-on,
By dropping her shirt,
And raising her skirt,
Exposing a market to dabble-on.
There’s a charming young lady named Julie,
Who’s often been screwed by yours truly,
But now . . . it’s appallin’,
My balls always fall in!
I fear that I’ve fucked her unduly.
There once was a rabbi from Keith,
Who circumcised men with his teeth.
It was not for the treasure,
Nor sexual pleasure,
But to get at the cheese underneath.
While Titian was mixing rose madder,
He espied a nude girl on a ladder.
Her position to Titian,
Suggested coition,
So he climed up the ladder and had ‘er.
There once was a novice at Chichester,
Whose form made the saints in their niches stir.
One morning at matins,
Her bosom ‘neath stains,
Made the Bishop of Chichester’s britches stir.
A Roman who hailed from Gadondom,
Used a fried hedgehog’s hide for a condom.
His mistress did shout,
As he pulled the thing out,
“De gustibus non disputandum!”
(there is no disputing taste)
There was a young man from Aberystwyth,
Who said to the girl he just kissed with,
“That hole in your crotch,
Is for fucking and such,
And not just a gadget to piss with.”
There was a young lady called Annie,
Who had fleas, lice, and crabs up her fanny,
To get up her flue,
Was like touring the zoo,
There were wild beasts in each nook and cranny.
There was an old whore from the Azores,
Whose cunt was all covered in sores
,Even dogs in the street,
Wouldn’t touch the green meat,
That hung in festoons from her drawers.
There was a young girl from Assizes,
Whose breasts were of two different sizes,
The left one was small,
Sweet nothing at all,
The right one was large and won prizes.
There was a young lady in Brent,
Whose old man’s pecker was bent,
She said with a sigh,
“Oh why must it die?
Let’s fill it with Portland Cement.”
There was a young man of Koblenz,
The size of whose balls was immense,
One day playing soccer,
He sprung his left knocker,
And kicked it right over the fence.
There was a young lady named Alice,
Who used dynamite for a phallus,
They found her vagina,
In North Carolina,
Her arsehole in Buckingham Palace.
There once was a lady from Arden,
Who sucked a man off in a garden,
He said, “My dear Flo,
Where does all that stuff go?”
And she said (swallow hard)”I beg pardon?”
There was a young lawyer named Rex,
With diminutive organs of sex,
When hauled in for exposure,
He replied with composure,
“De minimis non curat lex.”
(the law does not concern itself with trivial things)
She wasn’t what one would call pretty,
And other girls offered her pity.
So nobody guessed,
That her Wasserman test,
Involved half of Oklahoma City.
There was a young lady named Alice,
Who thought of her cunt as a chalice,
One night sleeping nude,
She woke, feeling lewd,
And found in her chalice a phallus.
There once was a Filipino hombre,
Who ate rice, pescado y legumbre.
His trousers were wide,
And his shirt hung outside,
And this, I may say, was costumbre.
There was a young man from Australia,
Who painted his arse like a dahlia,
The drawing was fine,
The color divine,
But the scent – Ah, that was a failure.
There was a young fellow named Babitt,
Who could screw nine times like a rabbit,
But a girl from Lahore,
Could do it twice more,
Which was just enough extra to crab it.
A lady astrologist in Vancouver,
Once captured a man by maneuver.
Influenced by Venus,
She jumped on his penis,
And nothing on Earth could remove her.
There was a young lady of Dexter,
Whose husband exceedingly vexed her,
For whenever they’d start,
He’d unfailingly fart,
With a blast that damn nearly unsexed her.
There was a young lady from France,
Who decided to take just one chance.
For an hour or so,
She just let herself go,
And now all her sisters are aunts.
There was a young lady from Maine,
Who enjoyed copulating on a train.
Not once, I maintain,
But again and again,
And again and again and again.
An Eskimo on his vacation,
Took a night off to succumb to temptation.
‘Ere the night was half through,
The Eskimo was, too,
For their nights are of six months’ duration.
There once was a Duchess of Bruges,
Whose cunt was incredibly huge,
Said the King to his Dame,
As he thunderously came,
“Mon Dieu! Apres moi, le deluge!”
Sir Reginald Basington Bart,
Went to a masked ball as a fart,
He had painted his face,
Like a more private place,
And his voice made the dowagers start.
There was a young fellow named Brewster,
Who said to his wife as he goosed her,
“It used to be grand,
But just look at my hand,
You ain’t wiping as clean as you used ‘ter.”
There was a young man of Bengal,
Who went to a fancy dress ball,
Just for a stunt,
He dressed up as a cunt,
And was fucked by a dog in the hall.
There was a young trucker named Briard,
Who had a young whore that he hired,
To fuck when not trucking,
But trucking plus fucking,
Got him so fucking tired he got fired.
There was a young sailor named Bates,
Who did the fandango on skates,
He fell on his cutlass,
Which rendered him nutless,
And practically useless on dates.
A woman from on the Equator,
Once went out to sea on a freighter,
She was screwed by the master,
An utter disaster,
But the crew all made up for it later.
I once knew a girl named Maureen,
Her cunt was a mass of gangrene,
But health nuts, she found,
Would still eat her mound,
‘Cause maggots are high in protein.
There once was a whore on the dock,
From dusk unti dawn she sucked cock,
Till one day, ’tis said,
She gave so much head,
She exploded and whitewashed the dock.
There was a young man of Belgrave,
Who kept a dead whore in a cave,
He said, “I admit,
I’m a bit of a shit,
But think of the money I save.”
An Argentine gaucho named Bruno,
Said, “Fucking is one thing I do know,
A woman is fine,
And sheep are divine,
But a llama is numero uno.”
There was a young man from Bengal,
Who had a rectangular ball,
The square of its weight,
Plus his penis times eight,
Was two-fifths of five-eights of fuck all.
There once was a poet named Dude,
Whose wife was a bit of a prude,
But after a beer,
She’d start feeling queer,
And ask the whole room if they screwed.
There once was a fellow from Beverly,
Went in for fucking quite heavily,
He fucked night and day,
Till his ballocks gave way,
But the doctors replaced them quite cleverly.
There once was a Bishop of Buckingham,
Who wrote “Assholes and Twelve Ways of Rooting ’em,”
He then went berserk,
When outdone by a Turk,
Who wrote “Goats and Twelve Ways of Fucking ’em.”
When her daughter got married in Bicester,
Her mother remarked as she kissed her,
“That fellow you’ve won,
Is sure to be fun,
Since tea he’s fucked me and your sister.”
Then there was the Bishop of Birmingham,
Who screwed all the girls while confirming ’em,
To the roars of applause,
He’d pull down their drawers,
And inject his Episcopal sperm in ’em.
There was a young man of Bombay,
Who fashioned a cunt out of clay,
But the heat of his prick,
Turned the clay into brick,
And it rubbed his foreskin away.
There was a young man of Trieste,
Who loved his young wife with such zest,
That despite all her howls,
He sucked out her bowels,
And puked up the mess on her chest.
There was a bloke in Calcutta,
Who did a shit in the gutter,
Sun was so hot,
Melted his balls on the spot,
And off they flowed like butter.
There once was a young man from Boston,
Who tried to get laid in a Nissan,
There was room for his ass,
And three gallons of gas,
But his balls hung outside and he lost ’em.
There was a young sailor from Brighton,
Who said to his girl, “You’re a tight ‘un.”
She replied, “‘Pon my soul,
You’re in the wrong hole,
There’s plenty of room in the right ‘un.”
There was a young damsel named Baker,
Who was poked in a pew by a Quaker,
He yelled, “My God!
What do you call thata twat?
Why the entrance is more than an acre!”
There was a young lady named Brent,
With a cunt of enormous extent,
And so deep and wide,
The acoustics inside,
Were so good you could hear when you spent.
There once was a Queen of Bulgaria,
Whose bush had grown hairier and hairier,
Till a Prince from Peru,
Who came for a screw,
Had to hunt for her cunt with a terrier.
There was a young girl who begat,
Three brats, by name Nat, Pat, and Tat,
It was fun in the breeding,
But hell in the feeding,
When she found she had no tit for Tat.
There was a young fellow named Bliss,
Whose sex life was strangely amiss,
For even with Venus,
His recalcitrant penis,
Would never do better than this.
A poofter from old Khartoum,
Lured two lesbians up to his room,
They argued all night,
Over who had the right,
To do what, and with which, and to whom.
A nasty old bugger of Cheltenham,
Once shit in his bags as he knelt in ’em,
He sold them at Ware,
To a gentleman there,
Who didn’t much like what he smelt in ’em.
There once was a man of Cape Nod,
Who attempted to bugger a cod,
When up came some scallops,
That nibbled his ballocks,
And now he’s a eunuch, by God.
There was a young woman of Chester,
Who said to the man who undressed her,
“I think you will find,
That it’s better behind,
As the front is beginning to fester.”
There was a young woman of Croft,
Who played with herself in the loft,
Having reasoned that candles,
Could never cause scandals,
Besides which they did not go soft.
There was a poor wretch from Cape Horn,
Who wished he’d never been born,
He wouldn’t have been,
If his father had seen,
That the end of his rubber was torn.
A policeman from near Clapham Junction,
Had a penis which just wouldn’t function,
For the rest of his life,
He misled his poor wife,
With a snot on the end of his truncheon.
There was a young lady of Cheam,
Who crept into the vestry unseen,
She pulled down her knickers,
And likewise, the vicar’s,
And said, “How about it, old bean?”
A pretty young thing from Cape Cod,
Said, “Good things come only from God,”
But ’twas not the Almighty,
Who lifted her nightie,
But Roger, the lodger, the sod.
There was a young man from Killeen,
Who invented a fucking machine,
He pulled out the choke,
And the bloody thing broke,
And mixed both his balls into cream.
A lady while dining at Crewe,
Found an elephant’s dong in her stew,
Said the waiter, “Don’t shout,
Or wave it about,
Or the others will all want one, too.”
King Louis, the exemplar of class,
One time was romancing a lass,
When she used the word, “Damn,”
He rebuked her, “Please ma’am,
Keep a more civil tongue up my ass.”
There was an old man of Duluth,
Whose cock was shot off in his youth,
He fucked with his nose,
And with fingers and toes,
And he came through a hole in his tooth.
There was a young lady of Kew,
Who said as the Bishop withdrew,
“The Vicar is slicker,
And quicker and thicker,
And two inches longer than you.”
The selfsame young lady of Kew,
Said as the Vicar withdrew,
“The Verger’s emerger,
Is longer and larger,
And he gets his ballocks in too.”
A habit both vile and unsavory,
Kept the Bishop of London in slavery,
With lecherous howls,
He deflowered little owls,
That he kept in an underground aviary.
There was a young lady called Phoebe,
Who kept a small tame amoebae,
The wee piece of jelly,
Would crawl on her belly,
And tenderly murmur “Ich liebe.”
A shiftless young man from Kent,
Made his wife fuck the landlord for rent,
But as she got older,
The landlord got colder,
And now they live in a tent.
There was a young couple named Kelly,
Who were found stuck belly to belly,
Because in their haste,
They used library paste,
Instead of petroleum jelly.
There was a young lady of Trail,
Who offered her body for sale,
She was kind to the blind,
For on her behind,
Her prices were written in Braille.
A clever young harlot from Kew,
Filled up her vagina with glue,
She said, with a grin,
“If they’ll pay to get in,
They can pay to get out of it too.”
There was a young fellow from Kent,
Whose tool was most horribly bent,
To save himself trouble,
He put it in double,
And instead of coming, he went.
There was a young man of Nantucket,
Whose prick was so long he could suck it,
He said, with a grin,
As he wiped off his chin,
“If my ear were I cunt, I’d fuck it.”
Classical hasher, the Flying
Booger, had all the girls sighing,
By praising their twats in,
Both Greek and in Latin,
Then fucking them till they were dying.
A man on a farm in Moritz,
Once planted two acres of titz,
They came up in the fall,
Pink nipples and all,
Then he leisurely chewed them to bitz.
The brilliant young physicist Fisque,
Was determined a security risque,
For acts of perversion,
Were his main diversion,
At which one can only say, “Tisque.”
A frustrated virgin named Pugh,
Once dreamed she was having a scrugh.
Repenting her sin,
he awoke with chagrin,
At finding it perfectly trugh.
To his bride said the one-eyed detective,
“Can it be that my eyesight’s defective?
Has your east tit the least bit,
The best of your west tit,
Or is it a trick of perspective?”
A guru from eastern Tibet,
Now this is the strangest one yet,
Had a member so long,
So pointed and strong,
He could skewer six yaks en brochette.
A hillbilly farmer named Hollis,
With possums and snakes sought his solace.
His children had scales,
And prehensile tails,
And voted for Governor Wallace.
Had enough? Here’s more:
There once was a man from Newcastle,
Who had a collapsible asshole.
It was handy, you see,
When he farted at sea,
He could bend down and make up a parcel.
There once was a fellow from Redding,
Who was constantly wetting the bedding.
Till it made his wife say,
“I don’t mind the spray,
It’s the stench in the morning I’m dreading.”
There was a young man from Devizes,
Whose ballocks were two different sizes.
One weighed a full pound,
And dragged on the ground,
The other was large as a fly’s is.
An insatiable nymph from Penzance,
Traveled by bus to South Hants.
Five others fucked her,
Besides the conductor,
And the driver came twice in his pants.
There once was a man from Belgravia,
Found guilty of obscene behavior.
When he met little girls,
He’d rub spunk in their curls,
When cautioned he said, “Spunk makes ’em wavier.”
A lady who lived in South Mimms,
Had the most overwhelming of quims.
The priest of the diocese,
Has elephantiasis,
So it wasn’t all singing and hymns.
There was a young fellow from Nottingham,
Who saved up tin cans and put snot in ’em.
He threw in some shit,
To spice it a bit,
And sold ’em to boys, who shot off in ’em.
There was a young girl from Bahia,
Who liked sticking flutes up her rea-ha.
After eating escargots,
She could fart Handel’s “Largo,”
Her encore was “Ave Maria.”
Ermyntrude of ample proportions,
Always took contraceptive precautions.
But one day little Ermyntrude,
Let a little sperm intrude,
“Does anyone here do abortions?”
There was a young fellow from Stroud,
Who could fart unbelievably loud.
When he let go a big ‘un,
Dogs were deafened in Wigan,
And the windowpanes shattered in Oudh.
There once was a sheik from Algiers,
Who said to his harem, “My dears,
You may think it odd of me,
But I’ve given up sodomy,
And taken up fucking.” Big cheers!
Then up spoke his friend the mahout,
“Fucking’s all very well, I’ve no doubt,
But I just had a bunk,
Up an elephant’s trunk.”
Cries of “Shame!” “Dirty sod!” “Chuck ‘im out!”
A randy young buck of Lahore,
Was asked when he rogered his whore.
“At eleven,
At three, five, and seven,
And eight, and a quarter past four.”
There was an old monk from Siberia,
Who seemed to get wearier and wearier.
No wonder_this monk,
Was sharing his bunk,
With his girlfriend, the Mother Superior.
There was a young lady named Hilda,
Who went for a walk with a builder.
He knew that he could,
And he should, and he would,
And he did, and he goddamn near killed her.
A chap down in old Oklahoma,
Had a cock that could sing “La Paloma.”
But the sweetness of pitch,
Couldn’t put off the hitch,
Of impotence, size, and aroma.
A disgusting young man named McGill,
Made his neighbors exceedingly ill,
When they learned of his habits,
Involving white rabbits,
And a bird with a flexible bill.
There was a young girl named McCall,
Whose cunt was exceedingly small.
But the size of her anus,
Was something quite heinous,
It could hold seven pricks and one ball.
A broken down harlot named Tupps,
Was heard to confess in her cups,
“The height of my folly,
Was fucking a collie,
But I got a nice price for the pups.”
There was a young plumber of Lea,
Who was plumbing a girl by the sea.
She said, “Stop your plumbing,
There’s somebody coming!”
Said the plumber, still plumbing, “It’s me.”
There was a young parson named Bings,
Who talked about women and things.
But his secret desire,
Was a boy in the choir,
With a bottom like jelly on springs.
An elderly pervert in Nice,
Was long past wanting a piece.
He jacked off his hogs,
His cow, and his dogs,
Till his parrot called in the police.
Lady apes all ran from King Kong,
Whose dong was unspeakably long.
But a friendly giraffe,
Chewed the length of his staff,
And ecstatically burst into song.
A maiden who lived in Virginny,
Had a cunt that could bark, neigh, and whinny.
The hunting set chased her,
Fucked, buggered, then dropped her,
For the pitch of her organ went tinny.
There was a young girl of Devon,
Who was raped in the garden by seven,
High Anglican priests,
The lascivious beasts,
Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.
There was a young lady of Trent,
Who said that she knew what it meant,
When he asked her to dine,
Private room, lots of wine,
Oh she knew, yes she knew, but she went.
An organist playing in York,
Had a prick that could hold a small fork.
And between obbligatos,
It’d much at tomatos,
And keep up his strength while at work.
The last time I dined with the King,
He did a curious thing.
He stood on a stool,
And took out his tool,
And said, “If I play, will you sing?”
There once was a girl from Hoboken,
Who claimed that her cherry was broken,
From riding her bike,
On a cobblestone pike,
But it really was broken from pokin’.
There was a young lady from Natchez,
Who happened to be born with two snatches.
She said, with some wit,
I’d give either tit,
For a man with equipment that matches.
There once was a girl named Ann Heiser,
Who claimed no man could suprise her.
But Pabst to a chance,
Found a Schlitz in her pants,
And now he is sadder, Budweiser.
There once was a lady from Wheeling,
Who claimed she lacked sexual feeling.
Till a cynic named Boris,
Touched her clitoris,
And they scraped her off of the ceiling.
There once was a man named McSweeney,
Who spilled some gin on his weenie.
Now, just to be couth,
He added vermouth,
And slipped his girl a martini.
There was a young fellow named Rick,
Who was cursed with a spiraling dick.
He started to hunt,
For a twisted-up cunt,
To match his curlicue prick.
He found one and took it to bed,
And then in dismay he dropped dead.
For that spiraling snatch,
Although nearly a match,
Had come with a left-handed thread.
A pretty young boy known as Kevin,
Was raped in a pasture by seven
Lascivious beasts,
(Oh, those Anglican priests!)
And such is the kingdom of heaven.
It’s easy enough to be happy,
When your tits are 44-D.
But the gal worthwhile,
Can smile and beguile,
With a bosom the size of a pea.
So well stacked was a freshman named Brenda,
That the studs yearned to part her pudenda.
So they all were irate,
When her first campus date,
Wasn’t Tom, Dick, or Harry – but Glenda!
There was a young lady from Worchester,
Who complained that too many men goosed her.
So she traded her scanties,
For sandpaper panties,
Now they goose her much less than they used ‘ter.
There was a young maiden named Hoople,
Whose bosom was triple, not duple.
She had one tit removed,
But it grew back improved:
At present Miss Hoople’s quadruple.
Adam and Eve were standing by a tree.
Says Eve to Adam, “Will you eat with me?”
Says Adam to Eve, when he’d had a taste,
“Cover it with a fig leaf, or we’ll
Dry out the paste!”
We recall with the fondest of ease
The front aperture of Louise.
Tho’ shaped like a funnel,
’twas large as a tunnel
With a space for a flying trapeze.
We know an old gal from Decatur,
With an ass like a ripe red tomater.
She’ll roll in the weeds,
While you get off your seeds,
And that’s why us fellers all date her.
There’s an oversexed lady named Whyte,
Who insists on a dozen a night.
A fellow named Cheddar,
Had the brashness to wed her_
His chance of survival is slight.
There was a young man from Bengal,
Who claimed he had only one ball.
But two little bitches,
Pulled down this man’s breeches,
And proved he had nothing at all.
What with female Marines, Sergeant Trilling,
Finds his life in the Corps more fulfilling.
In the daytime, his skill,
Is close-order drill,
While at night, it’s in close-ardor drilling!
Cried exuberant Sheik Fahzee Dik,
“The E Vitamin has a great kick!
My harem brood,
Are frequently screwed,
For it pricks up the shtick in my mick!”
A physical fellow named Fisk,
Could screw at a rate very brisk.
So fast was his action,
The Fitzgerald contraction,
Would shrink up his rod to a disk.
There was a young lady at sea,
Who complained that it hurt her to pee.
Said the brawny old mate,
“That accounts for the state,
Of the cook and the captain and me.”
An inventor of genius named Moore,
Made himself a mechanical whore.
But he failed when he wooed her,
She unscrewed as he screwed her,
And her clit clattered down to the floor.
A self-centered sugar named Perkins,
Would work off her urges with gherkins.
Until, with a skid,
Inside her one slid,
And pickled her internal workin’s.
A silly young man from Hong Kong,
Had hands that were skinny and long.
He ate rice with his fingers –
The taste of it lingers,
But now all his fingers are gone.
One evening a guru had coitus,
With an actress, a whore and a poetess.
When asked what position,
He used for coition,
He answered serenely, “The loetus.”
Your rich coffee cake, Sara Lee,
Has made me a waist sixty-three.
My stomach, alas,
Is such a big mass,
I can’t even see ME when I pee.
A lady from Kalamazoo,
Once found she had nothing to do.
So she sat on the stairs
And she counted her hairs:
Forty-three thousand and two.
Cried an overhung fellow named Bowen,
“My pecker keeps growin’ and growin’.
It’s got so tremendulous,
So long and so pendulous,
It’s no good for pecking . . . just showin’!”
There once was a fellow named Potts,
Who was prone to having the trots.
But his humble abode,
Was without a commode,
So his carpet was covered with spots.
A pretty young lady named Vogel,
Once sat herself down on a molehill.
A curious mole,
Nosed into her hole –
Ms. Vogel’s okay, but the mole’s ill.
There was a young girl from East Lynn,
Whose mother (to save her from Sin),
Had filled up her crack,
With hard-setting shellac,
But the boys picked it out with a pin.
A pathetic old maid of Bordeaux,
Fell in love with a dashing young beau.
To ensure his regard,
She would squat in his yard,
And longingly pee in the sneaux.
There was a young lady from Rheims,
Who amazingly pissed in four streams.
A friend poked around,
And a fly-button found,
Lodged tight in her hole, so it seems.
A hot blooded damsel, Miss Pickett,
Had a hickey flare up in her thickett.
The young doctor said,
“Now lady, get spread,
It’s obvious I’ll have to prickett!”
A limerick packs laughs anatomical,
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I’ve seen,
So seldom are clean,
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.
There was a young man named Crockett,
Whose balls got caught in a socket.
His wife was a bitch,
And she threw the switch,
As Crockett went off like a rocket.
On a cannibal isle near Malaysia,
Lives a lady they call Anastasia.
Not Russian elite –
She’s eager to eat
Whatever or whoever lays her.
There was a young girl from Hong Kong
Whose cervical cap was a gong.
She said with a yell,
As a shot rang her bell,
“I’ll give you a ding for a dong!”
There once was a man named Howells,
Who sucked shit from other mens’ bowels.
He also did this,
With prostitutes’ piss,
And the drippings from sanitary towels!
A nervous old codger named Royce
Couldn’t control his sphincter by choice.
So he speedily strode
To his favorite commode,
Blew his nose, blew his ass, and rejoiced.
There once was a man from Los Leaver
Who had an affair with a beaver.
The results of that fuck
Were a canvas-backed duck,
Two canoes, and a golden retriever.
A languid young man from Racine
Wasn’t weaned until nearly sixteen.
He said, “I’ll admit
There’s no milk in the tit,
But think of the fun it has been.”
The nipples of young Miss Hong Kong
When excited are twelve inches long.
This embarrassed her lover
Who was pained to discover
She expected no less of his dong.
A prudish young woman from Ealing,
Professed to lack sexual feeling.
But a cynic called Boris
Just touched her clitoris,
And she had to be scraped off the ceiling.
The Farter from Sparta (a rare long-form limerick):
There was a young fellow from Sparta,
A really magnificent farter,
On the strength of one bean
He’d fart God Save the Queen,
And Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute
Like a lark, like a lute,
This highly fartistic Caucasian.
He’d fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, hum tah-dah!
He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart The Toccata,
He’d boom from his ass
Bach’s B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
Spurred on by a very high wager
With an envious Lieutenant Major,
He proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of the Hayden Octet in B-Major.
It went off in capital style,
And he farted it through with a smile;
Then, feeling quite jolly,
He tried the finale
Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay him one bit,
‘Til with ass thrown aloft
He suddenly coughed –
And collapsed in a shower of shit!
A selection of limericks by Flying Booger:
A young lady who waitressed at Hooters,
Joined a chat room on her computer,
Her screen name was Rexy,
Her postings were sexy,
Her teen fans were nocturnal polluters.
A young mousketeer from Palermo,
Fell in love with Annette Funicello,
All through that autumn,
He’d dream of her bottom,
While rubbing his privates with Jello.
When Annette joined the Mickey Mouse Club-ah,
Mr. Disney, he said Hubba-Hubba,
This girl, she’s a dandy,
She makes me all randy,
Jimmy, please lend me a rubba.
That liver lipped Saudi Osama,
Had enough of the old bomb-a-rama,
Way down in his cave,
He’d cringe and he’d crave,
To hide under the burkah of Mama.
Oh pity that poor raghead Yassur,
He’s lost a good bit of his stature,
The Mossad is conspiring,
His headrag to unwinding,
And putting him soon out to pasture.
Ref the soon to be former Al-Qaeda,
To myself, write a note of reminda,
While it’s still on my brain,
Let me say, you’re so vain,
You prob’ly think this bomb is about ya.
Sam was a right-wing New Yawkah,
A great fan of Mister Rush Limbaugh,
When Oprah’s guest, a pervert,
Pulled down Donahue’s skirt,
Sam, filled with glee, chuckled Haugh-Haugh.
A hasher observed on his bum,
A boil as big as his thumb,
The doc said “Let’s lance it,”
The hasher said, “Eat shit,
Medice, cura te ipsum.”
(physician, heal thyself)
A hasher, disgustingly vile,
Was swallowed by a crocodile,
Who digested his skin,
And most things within,
But choked on his membrum virile.
A front-running bastard named Moffat,
At seduction was one very cool cat,
He’d spread open their thighs,
With sweetly-voiced lies,
While whispering “exitus acta probat.”
(the end justifies the means)
John Wayne Bobbitt, unfortunate bum,
Is back in his hospital room,
He took physical therapy,
Just a little too seriously,
Now he’s got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.
A horny old hasher from Brest,
Showed up at Down-Downs undressed,
When the harriettes all ran away,
He said, “There’ll be another day,
Dum vita est, spes est.”
(while there’s life, there’s hope)
A towering boor named Infernal,
Sported organs of sex internal,
When an insensitive lass,
Did take him to task,
He replied, “contraria contrariis curantur-al.”
(things are cured by their opposite-als)
The OnSec from old Tallahassee
Found his dick turning into a cacti,
When his friends said “Who did it,”
He said, “I don’t know yet,
But undoubtedly, dux femina facti.”
(a woman is the perpetrator of the deed)
Barney, that creature with no dick,
Is so offensive he makes my old dog sick,
With weird vacant eyes,
And felt-covered thighs,
He’s hardly what I’d call Jurassic.
Barney, purple master of tedium,
Drives sane adults to delirium,
Spouting multicultural drivel,
He makes our brains shrivel,
With messages of oneness ad nauseam.
When Hillary said there would be no,
White males on the cabinet or she’d go,
An ex-lover named Flowers,
Said, “Bill, use your powers,
Te hominum esse memento.”
(remember you are a man)
O.J., a hero of yore,
Took to kicking in his ex’s door,
Then he went a bit whacko,
Hopped in his white Bronco,
And took L.A.P.D. on a tour.
A certain young hasher from Omaha,
Sang a rude song to his Grandmama,
Crooning four-letter words,
About defecating birds,
He whipped up a grand old brouhaha.
A young harriette from Wysteria,
Saw something that caused her hysteria
Her horse got a hard-on,
She never had seen one,
She found it a total mysteria.
The hare laid a trail through Utrecht,
And very strange marks did he select,
His arrows and checks,
Were references to sex,
All drawn anatomically correct.
And last, to old Elephant Dick,
I’ve been trying to find you a chick,
It must be a bitch,
To lustfully itch,
For someone to tickle your wick.
A hasher from old Bangladore,
Once scouted a trail for a whore,
Said the lass of the night,
“Though the trail was all right,
Down-downs were a bit of a chore.”
A poofter from Belfry-on-Melching,
Got hard at the sound of feet squelching,
It was a hash in the ooze,
Getting muck on their shoes,
But he thought it might have been felching.
A vegan harriette from Dubuque,
Ate a carrot, two beets, and a cuque,
She washed it all down,
With a tall Royal Crown,
My goodness, did she ever puque!
A shortcutting pervert named Felix,
Fancied sex with an African oryx,
He called her his honey,
And offered her money,
But scored with a counterfeit Rolex.
The Times put the hash on page one,
The article said it was fun,
Through written with flair,
It was signed “Jayson Blair,”
So much for the Times’ being on-on!
There once was a hasher named Pinky,
Who thought his scrotum too wrinkly,
So he inserted his dangle,
In a dry-cleaner’s mangle,
Now his voice is all high-pitched and tinkly.
There once was a hasher named Booger,
Considered, by Stray Dog, a goober,
He wasted our time,
With god-awful rhyme,
He should be shot, with a luger!
A hirsute harriette from LeClair,
Did purchase a bottle of Nair,
She depilated her pits,
And her legs and her tits,
But still she resembled a bear.
POETRY
Melody – The Little Brown Jug (chorus only)
This is performed in the same manner as the Limericks, with spoken verses and singing chorus, verses alternating around the circle
CHORUS:
Poetry, poetry,
How do you like my poetry?
Not as mellow as Longfellow,
But it’s poetry.
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day, school one day, school one day,
It followed her to school one day,
And a big black dog fucked it!
Mary had a little sheep,
And with the sheep she went to sleep,
The sheep turned out to be a ram,
And Mary had a little lamb.
When Mary had a little lamb,
The doctor was surprised.
But when Old MacDonald had a farm,
The doctor nearly died.
Mary had a little ram,
He had a stunning prick,
She much preferred his services
Which made the boys feel sick.
Mary had a little lamb,
Her father shot it dead.
Now Mary takes the lamb to school,
Between two hunks of bread.
Mary had a little lamb,
And it was always gruntin’.
She tied it to a five-bar gate,
And kicked its little cunt in.
Mary had a little skirt,
Split right up the side,
And every time that Mary moved,
You saw right up her thighs.
Mary had another skirt,
Split right up the front . . .
But she didn’t wear it very often.
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.
Now Mary found the price of meat too high,
Which really didn’t please her.
Tonight she’s having leg of lamb,
The rest is in the freezer.
Mary had a little lamb,
She tied it to a pylon.
10,000 volts went up its ass,
And turned its wool to nylon.
Mary had a little watch,
She kept it in her garter.
And when the boys asked her the time,
She knew what they were after.
Mary had a little lamb,
You’ve heard this tale before;
But did you know she passed her plate,
And had a little more!
Mary had a little lamb,
She kept in her yard.
Every time she took her panties off,
His little wooly dick got hard.
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was black as charcoal.
Every time it jumped the fence,
You could see its little arsehole.
Mary had a little lamb,
The doctors were astounded.
Everywhere that Mary went,
Gynecologists surrounded.
Mary had a little lamb,
A little roast, a little jam.
An ice-cream soda topped with fizz,
Boy, how sick our Mary is.
Mary had a little lamb,
She couldn’t stop it crying;
So she kicked it in the ass one day,
And sent it fucking flying.
Mary had a little lamb,
Forever it was gluing.
Making models of its friends,
In strange positions, screwing.
Mary had a little lamb,
It used to chew her slippers;
So Mary chopped off all it’s legs,
With a pair of clippers.
Mary had a little lamb,
It didn’t have a willy.
Mary made a big mistake,
In calling this lamb Billy.
Mary had a little lamb,
She knew just what to do;
She gave it paper and a pen,
Upon which it then drew,
A picture of a pussy cat
And said “Look, this is mine.”
And Mary said “Fuck me, a talking sheep!”
Mary had a little lamb,
That had a little tail.
Until she caught it smoking dope,
And locked it in the jail
Mary had a little lamb,
With carrots and with peas.
A little mint sauce on the top,
And stuffing in its knees.
Mary had a little lamb,
She liked to stroke it’s head.
Until one day she found her husband
Fucking it in her bed.
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb didn’t, because Mary was cunt.
Mary had a little lamb,
It’s fleece was sodden red;
The reason for it was you see,
It had a pick-axe through its head.
When Mary had a little lamb,
It created some division;
It was not what she’d expected,
And shocked the obstetrician.
Mary had a little lamb,
A giraffe and zebra too,
By the time she’d finished,
She’d fucked the whole damn zoo.
Mary had a little lamb
And now I’ve had enough
Of this stupid girl called Mary
And her wooly bit of muff.
Mary had a little twat,
Its hair was brown and curly,
Its hole was wet and smelled of fish,
Oh what a lucky girly.
Mary had a little dog,
I think it was a poodle,
It liked to lick her fanny clean
Then shaft her with its doodle.
Mary had another dog,
This one was a Yorkie,
First she made it shag and wag,
And then she took it walkies.
Hey diddle diddle,
The cat did a piddle,
The cow had a bad dose of clap.
The little dog licked,
Its balls and its prick,
And then had a bloody good crap.
The walrus is a lucky beast,
The females like his prongs,
He fucks two with his mighty tusks,
And a third one with his dong.
Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner,
Fingering his sister Mary.
He stuck in his thumb,
And pulled out a plum,
And said, “Ain’t it supposed to be a cherry?”
Little Boy Blue . . .
Because he needed the money.
Little Miss Muffet,
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her,
And said, “What’s in the bowl, bitch?”
Little Miss Muffet,
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey.
Along came another spider,
And crawled up inside her,
So she crushed it to death with her spoon.
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To get her poor dog a bone.
But when old Mother bent over,
Rover he drove her, ’cause
He had a bone of his own.
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To get her poor daughter a dress.
When she got there the cupboard was bare,
And so was her daughter, I guess.
There once was an old lady,
Who lived in a shoe,
She had so many kids that her
Cunt could stretch over a trash can.
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She said, “With my pension, that’s all I can do.
It may be substandard, but just down the block,
I know an old lady who lives in a sock.”
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water,
Jill came down with half a crown,
But not for fetching water.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
On an elephant.
Jill got down and helped
Jack off the elephant.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
For just an itty bitty.
Jill’s now two months overdue,
And Jack has left the city.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
Each with a quarter.
Jill came down with fifty cents;
Do you think they went for water?
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
Silly Jill forgot the pill,
And now they have a daughter.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down on top of Jill,
And now they have another daughter.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To have a little fun.
Stupid Jill! Forgot that pill!
So now they have a son.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
With a keg of brandy.
Jack got stewed, Jill got screwed,
Now it’s Jack, Jill and Andy
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To smoke a little leaf.
Jack got high, pulled down his fly,
And Jill said, “Where’s the beef!”
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
And planned to do some kissing.
Jack made a pass, and grabbed her ass
And now two of his front teeth are missing.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
Both carrying a bucket.
When Jill bent down, her ass was round,
And Jack decided to fuck it.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
For a bit of hanky panky.
Jill came back with a very sore crack,
Jack must have been a Yankee
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
Each with a buck and a quarter.
Jill came down with two-fifty,
The fuckin’ whore!
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,
All the king’s horses, and all the king’s men,
Had one fucking big omelette.
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick,
Jack jumped over the candlestick,
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick,
Jackie boy he singed his prick.
Jack was nimble,
Jack was quick,
But Jill preferred the candlestick!
Little Willie, full of glee,
Put radium in grandma’s tea.
Now he thinks it quite a lark,
To see her shining in the dark.
Little Willie, with a thirst for gore,
Nailed his mommy’s baby to the door.
Mother said with humor quaint,
Willie dear, don’t spoil the paint.
Little Willie,
Brand new skates.
Hole in ice,
Pearly gates.
The birds may kiss the bees goodbye,
The buttercup . . . the butterfly.
The morning dew may kiss the grass,
And you, my friend, may kiss my ass.
Oh give me a home,
Where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard,
A discouraging word,
After all, just what can antelope say?
Roses are violet,
Reds are blue.
I’m a dyslexic,
And stuff too you.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Some poems rhyme,
But this one doesn’t.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I’m a schizophrenic,
And so am I.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I’m amnesiac,
And . . .
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
That’s what they tell me,
Because I’m blind.
Roses are red,
Violets are for plucking.
Girls out of high school,
Are ready for college.
Roses are straight,
Violets are twisted,
Bend over, love,
You’re about to get fisted.
Roses are crap,
Violets are wanky,
Oooh! I’ve just cum,
Pass me a hanky.
Roses are stupid,
Violets are silly,
Grease up your flaps,
Cause here comes my willy.
Roses are awful,
Violets are the pits,
Lift up your shirt,
And show me your tits.
Roses make me laugh,
Violets make me titter,
You’re a dirty bitch,
And you love it up the shitter.
Roses are red,
When in reality,
Sleeping with girls,
Can’t beat bestiality.
Roses are red,
But I like carnations,
You’re crap in bed,
So I shagged your Alsatian.
Roses are red,
It’s all elementary,
Let’s ring up a friend,
And try double entry.
(the following verses were contributed by TAF, Belgium Manneke Piss HHH)
Betty and Jack, up a tree
F-U-C-K-I-N-G
First cums betty then cums jack
Then cums the goo out of bettys crack
Georgie porgie , pudding and pie
Jerked off in his girlfriends eye
When her eye was dry and shut
Georgie fucked that one eyed slut
My friend Billy,
Had a ten foot willy,
He showed it to the girl next door.
She thought it was a snake,
And hit it with a rake,
And now it’s only two foot four.
Christ, I am coming,
My cunt is getting hot,
Please put your willy,
In an old girl’s twat,
If you haven’t got a willy,
A forefinger will do,
If you haven’t any fingers,
Then God Bless You.
Old king cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
He chewed off his tit , ate his own shit
And washed it down with some tea
Hickory dickory dock
Some chick was sucking my cock
The clock struck two , i dropped my goo
I dumped the bitch on the next block
Jack and Jill went up the hill
Both with a buck and a quarter
Jill came down with two-fifty
That fucking whore
Mary, Mary ,quite contrary,
Trim that pussy its so damn hairy
Jack sprat could eat no fat his wife could eat no lean
So jack ignored those flabby tits and licked her asshole clean
Rock a bye baby on the tree top
Your mother’s a whore
I ain’t your pop
Peter Peter pumpkin eater
Had a wife , loved to beat her
Smacked her twice across the head
Fucked her ass and went to bed
Eenie meenie miney moe
Suck my dick and swallow slow
There was and old lady lived in a shoe
She had so many kids her uterus fell out
Patty cake patty cake bakers man
If your chick’s on her period fuck her in the can
Mary had a little lamb
She kept in her back yard
When she took her panties off
His little dick got hard
Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
Thats more than my wife does
The fat , fuckin smelly baboon
Doe a deer, a female deer
Ray, the guy that fucked her ass
Roses are red violets are blue
I fucked your mothers ass
And she had you.
MAN POEM
Everyday I give thanks to God
I was born a man instead of a broad
When Oprah comes on, I turn off the TV
I don’t shave my legs, I stand up to pee
I go to a barber, not a beauty salon
Don’t pluck out my eyebrows just to draw them back on
Don’t wax my pubes so I can wear shorts
I use my turn signal, I understand sports
Man, I’m glad I’m a man, man
Tell you the reason I am
I don’t go through a phase every 28 days
Man, I’m glad I’m a man
I pay cash at the grocery, no checks or coupons
Don’t take along friends when I go to the john
I don’t throw a fit when I break a nail
I don’t buy a lot of shoes just because they’re on sale
I don’t apply makeup in my rear-view mirror
I don’t think of Bambi when I’m out hunting deer
I drink beer from a bottle, not from a glass
I don’t ask my friends about the size of my ass
Man, I’m glad I’m a man, man
Tell you the reason I am
I don’t face the pain of water-weight gain
Man, I’m glad I’m a man
Let me tell you ladies
Listen to me ladies
I love those things inside of your blouse
I love your pretty faces
Your warm and soft embraces
But if I had my own two boobs, I’d never leave the house
I don’t spend two hours getting ready for a date
I don’t play with dolls unless they inflate
When someone asks me my age, I never lie
After sex in bed, my spot’s always dry
I don’t read about orgasms in Vogue magazines
I don’t mind if my dates try to get in my jeans
I don’t spend a fortune on French lingerie
This is the same underwear I wore yesterday
Man, I’m glad I’m a man, man
Tell you the reason I am
I don’t take a pill, I don’t use Massengill
Man, I’m glad I’m a man
Man, I’m glad I’m a man, man
Tell you the reason I am
I find Michael Bolton completely revoltin’
Man, I’m glad I’m a man
RAMJI ARUP GUPTA RAGOUT
by Flying Booger
in Memory of Shel Silverstein
Ramji Arup Gupta Ragout
Will not clean his bathroom out.
It will not do to protest or shout,
If you have to go you hold your snout.
The floor is covered in pubic hair,
Sheets of TP lay about here and there,
The occasional toenail lends added flair,
And far-flung boogers stick everywhere.
The walls are stained with I-don’t-know-what,
But I’m pretty sure it isn’t just snot,
For some odd reason a sock in a knot,
Wedges under the door, where it is caught.
And the sink – it’ll fail any health code,
Supported by a damp, rotting commode,
The porcelain’s green and yellow with mold,
To touch that faucet you’d have to be bold.
Stinking hash socks overflow the hamper,
With jock straps and shorts that are even damper,
The smell of the laundry gets ranker and ranker,
It’s so bad it’d make a skunk scamper.
What, open the window and let out the smell?
You wanna make the whole neighborhood ill?
Nauseous and queasy and green in the gill?
These noxious odors have the power to kill.
Let’s don’t even consider the tub,
I’d rather take dirt to my skin and then rub,
Something grows out of the drain like a shrub,
Forget it, I’d sooner go through life as a grub.
The towel rack now serves to support underwear,
Brown-stained briefs greet your astonished stare,
As if to say, “Whatever you think, I don’t care,
My personal hygiene is my own affair.”
A roach on the toothbrush, now that’s a nice touch,
But the rat in the cabinet’s a bit too much,
A year’s worth of Hustler is stacked on the hutch,
With matches, butts, candy wrappers, and such.
Now we come to the toilet – Dear God! how vile,
It only gets flushed once in a while.
When Ramji Ragout deposits his pile,
The fetor is known to stun dogs at a mile.
And the tile’s all greasy, gross, and grotty,
Slimy and scummy and scrungy and spotty,
Never was there a bathroom so naughty,
It really is a disgusting old potty.
If ever there were a privy or jakes,
That ought to be bombed, for Christ’s loving sakes,
Ramji’s shitter here, it’s got what it takes,
Let’s break it up into little dirt cakes.
How did this state of affairs come about?
Well, as for that, there can be no doubt:
It’s simple – Ramji Arup Gupta Ragout
Will not clean his bathroom out.
RECITALS
It Came to Pass
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
It came to pass, there was no ass, there was a famine in the land. And Daniel came unto the King, and Daniel sayeth unto the King, “Why is the Queen not a prostitute?” and the King casteth Daniel into the lions’ den.
“Fuck me,” said the Queen, and no one moved except a decrepit old courtier, who’d sat in a corner wanking for nigh on fifty years, and grabbing hold of her by the lapels of her cunt, pulled her on like a well-worn seaboot.
“Fuck me,” said the Princess and the Knight rolled on.
On the first day the King came unto Daniel, and Daniel espying the King from afar, picked up a lump of crystallized camel shit (bullshit not being available in those days), and let fly, hitting the King between the eyes.
“Shit,” said the King, and the King’s word being law in the land, 50,000 asses turned toward the East and splattered the midday sun.
“Stop,” said the Queen, and the Queen’s word also being law in those days, 20,000 turds were nipped in the bud.
Nabob the Paybob
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
It came to pass, there was no ass, and NABOB, son of PAYBOB, traveled the road from Pompey to Guzz and he was set upon by bandits, not ordinary bandits, but ass bandits, who ragged him, bagged him, and shagged him and left him on the roadside gasping for a tickler and they drew lots for his burberry.
The first person to walk past was not a tall man, he was not a short man, he was not a fat man, he was not a thin man, but a fucking great JOSSMAN who spat on him and crossed by on the other side.
The next person to walk by was JENNY who came unto NABOB and sayeth, “What doest thou here?” and NABOB sayeth “I was traveling along the road from Pompey to Guzz and I was set upon by bandits, not ordinary bandits, but ass bandits who ragged me, bagged me, and shagged me, and left me on the roadside gasping for a tickler, and they drew lots for my burberry.” And JENNY sayeth unto NABOB, “Dwell with me,” and he dwelt.
After forty days and forty nights he came unto the bay of sickness and JENNY sayeth unto him, “I am pregnant and what steps wilt thou take?” and NABOB sayeth “Bloody big ones!” and disappeareth into the wilderness.
Here endeth the lesson.
Sharp Operator
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
There was a young lady who swallowed a Wilkerson Sword stainless steel razor blade. Not only did she suffer a tonsilectomy, an appendectomy, and a hysterectomy, but she castrated her husband, circumcised her lover, took two fingers off a casual acquaintance, gave the vicar a harelip, and she still had five shaves left.
One Hen Tongue Twister
This is a drinking recital I learned at the 44th TFS at Kadena Air Base, Japan – the leader shouts the first line and everybody else shouts it back; the leader shouts the first and second lines and everybody else shouts them back; and so on through the tenth line – if you say it right, you drink; if you screw it up, you drink . . . F.B.
– One hen
– Two ducks
– Three squawking geese
– Four Limerick oysters
– Five corpulent porpoises
– Six pairs of Don Alveezer’s tweezers
– Seven thousand Macedonian warriors charging in full battle armor
– Eight brass monkeys from the ancient, sacred crypts of Egypt
– Nine apathetic, syphilitic, diabetic old men on roller skates with a marked
propensity toward procrastination and sloth
– Ten lyrical, spherical, diabolical denizens of the deep who quoth quay through
the quivy of the quarry constantly and at the same time
– Right?
– (all shout) Right!
THE SHIT LIST
(this is a bit of “Xerox-ware” slightly improved upon by Flying Booger)
The Ghost – You know you’ve shit; it smells like shit; there’s shit on the toilet paper; but there’s nothing in the toilet.
Teflon-Coated Shit – Also known as the Ronald Reagan. Comes out so slick, clean, and easy you don’t even feel it. No traces on the paper. You have to look in the bowl to be sure.
Gooey Shit* – Has the consistency of hot tar. You wipe yourself 12 times and still don’t come clean. You end up stuffing toilet paper in your drawers to keep from staining them. This shit leaves permanent marks on the porcelin.
The Not Again! Shit – You’re all done and standing up when you realize you have to shit some more.
The Vein-Popper – It won’t come out until you’re all sweaty, trembling, and purple. This is the one that killed Elvis.
The Richard Simmons – You shit so much you lose ten pounds.
Corn Shit – Self-explanatory.
The Right Now! Shit – You’d better be within ten feet of a toilet. Usually it’s part-way out by the time you get your pants down.
Green Shit – Almost always the result of eating spinach salad.
The Noisy Shit* – Accompanied by loud, stuttering farts that you can’t seem to control. This shit would embarrass Roseanne Barr.
The Sneaky Shit – You’re standing there taking a piss and you feel a little fart building up. You let it fly, and guess what? Surprise!
The King Kong* – This one is so big you have to break it into smaller chunks before it’ll flush. A coat hanger works well for this task.
The Cork Shit* – Also known as the Floater. Even after the third flush it’s still there.
Wet Cheeks Shit – Hits the water sideways and makes a big splash. It invariably occurs when you’re down to the last sheet of toilet paper.
The Calamari Express – Also known as the Clinger. Comes after dining on octopus or squid. Those little tentacles latch onto your asshole and won’t let go.
The Wish Shit – You sit for hours, all cramped up, and produce only a few farts.
Cement Block Shit – You wish you’d gotten a spinal block before you dropped this load.
The Achoo Shit* – Akin to an anal sneeze, it explodes from you with sudden and great force. You’d better check the toilet afterwards, because it’ll spray everywhere, even up on the bottom of the seat.
Snake Shit – Fairly soft, about as big around as your thumb, and three feet long.
Mexican Food Shit – Also known as the Screamer. You’ll know it’s safe to eat again when your asshole stops burning.
Beer Drunk’s Shit* – Comes the day after the night before. Shit usually smells bad, but this shit smells BAAAAAD!
* Only occurs when there’s a person of the opposite sex standing outside waiting to use the bathroom. Usually you’re in someone else’s house.
THE SPAM SKIT
from Monty Python (copyrighted material)
Background noise: sounds of silverware and cups clinking, etc . . .
Male customer: “Sit here, dear.”
Female customer: “All right.”
Male customer (to waitress): “Morning.”
Waitress: “Morning.”
Male customer: “Wot you got?”
Waitress: “Well, there’s egg and bacon; egg, sausage, and bacon; egg and Spam; egg, bacon, and Spam; egg, bacon, sausage, and Spam; Spam, bacon, sausage, and Spam; Spam, egg, Spam, Spam, bacon, and Spam; Spam, sausage, Spam, Spam, Spam, bacon, Spam, tomatoe, and Spam; Spam, Spam, Spam, egg and Spam; Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam . . .”
Viking CHORUS: Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spamity Spam! Spamity Spam!
Waitress: “Or Lobster Thermidor et Cruvettes with a Bernaise sauce served in the Provencal manner with shallots and oeuvres garnished with truffle patty, brandy, and a fried egg on top, and Spam.”
Female Customer: “Have you got anything without Spam?”
Waitress: “Well, there’s Spam, eggs, sausage, and Spam. That’s not got much Spam in it.”
Female Customer: “I don’t want any Spam.”
Male customer: “Why can’t she have egg, bacon, Spam, and sausage?”
Female Customer: “That’s got Spam in it.”
Male customer: “Hasn’t got as much Spam in it as Spam, egg, sausage, and Spam, has it?”
Female Customer: “Wot, d’ye mean egg, bacon, Spam, and sausage without the Spam, then?
Waitress: “Eeeeeewwaugh!”
Female Customer: “Wot d’ye mean, ‘eeeeeeewwaugh?’ I don’t like Spam!”
Viking CHORUS: Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spamity Spam! Wonderful Spam!
Waitress: “Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings . . . you can’t have egg, bacon, Spam, and sausage without the Spam!”
Female Customer (screaming): “I don’t like Spam!!!”
Male customer: “Hush, dear, don’t cause a fuss . . . I’ll have your Spam. I love it. I’m having Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam.”
Viking CHORUS: Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spamity Spam! Wonderful Spam!
Waitress: “Shut up! (Vikings stop) Baked beans are off.”
Male customer: “Could I have Spam instead of the baked beans, then?”
Waitress: “You mean Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam?”
Viking CHORUS: Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spamity Spam! Wonderful Spam! Lovely Spam! Wonderful Spam! Spam-a-Spam-a-Spam-a-Spam-a-Spam-a-Spam, Spamity Spam, Wonderful Spam, Spamity Spam, Lovely Spam, Lovely Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam!
STREET OF A THOUSAND ASSHOLES
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
On the street of a thousand assholes
‘Neath the sign of the swinging tit,
Stood a beautiful Chineese maiden,
Her name was “Who Flung Shit.”
She stood in celestial splendor,
Her eyes like pools of piss,
As she diddled herself with a candle,
And stood in eternal bliss.
She thought of her friends on Bond Street,
She thought of her friends on Bow,
She thought of the score she’d laid on the floor
When in walked “One Hung Low.”
“Fly into my arms thou bag of shit,”
He said with his cock in hand,
“My love for thee will last like snow
Upon the desert sand.”
She gently raised her starboard tit
And scratched her itchy prat,
Then she said with a half-assed grin,
“Why don’t you fuck your hat?”
Anger overcame him
As he pissed upon the wall,
Cock in hand he fucked his hat
And tread on his one good ball.
Now on the street of a thousand assholes
‘Neath the sign of the pregnant cat,
They bore him away in splendor,
The man who had fucked his hat.
TOASTS
To a man:
May the bleeding piles possess him and adorn his bloody feet,
May crabs the size of horseturds climb up his legs and eat;
And when he’s as old as I am and naught but a bloody wreck,
May his head fall down through his asshole and break his fucking neck.
To youth:
When I was a young man, I used to be so proud,
I had a cock so mighty, I wanted to shout out loud.
It never took a day off; it was always there,
And every morning when I shaved, it would stand and stare.
Now I’m old and weary, my pilot light’s gone out,
What used to be my sex appeal is now my water spout,
Oh, I’m gray and wrinkled, and it sure gives me the blues,
To see the thing hang down my leg to watch me shine my shoes.
When I was a little girl, I had a little quim;
I’d stand before the looking-glass, and put one finger in.
But now that I am old and gray, and losing all my charm,
I can get five fingers in, and half my fucking arm.
To women:
Here’s to the gash that never heals,
The more you touch it the better it feels,
Rub it and tub it and scrub it like hell,
You’ll never get rid of that fishy old smell.
Here’s to the girl who lives on the hill,
If she won’t do it her sister will
Here’s to her sister!
Here’s to the breezes
That blow through the treeses
And lift girls’ chemises
Way over their kneeses
And show us the creases
That twitches and squeezes
And teases and pleases
And carries diseases
By Jesus!
Here’s to the lady dressed in black,
Once she walks by she never looks back,
And when she kisses, oh, how sweet,
She makes things stand that never had feet.
Here’s to the girl who I love best,
I love her best when she’s undressed,
I’d fuck her sitting, standing, lying,
If she had wings I’d fuck her flying,
And when she’s dead and long forgotten,
I’ll dig her up and fuck her rotten!
Let’s have a toast to her honor!
Response: Get on her and stay on her!
Here’s to Mag, that filthy hag,
That sleazy, slimy slut.
Green fungus lies between her thighs,
And worms crawl out her butt.
Before I’d scale those scabby legs,
Or suck those pus-filled tits,
I’d drink a gallon of buzzard puke,
And die of the drizzly shits.
To love:
Man’s occupation,
Is to stick his cockulation,
Up the woman’s ventilation,
To increase the population,
Of the coming generation.
Here’s to the game of twenty toes,
It’s played all over the town.
The women play with ten toes up,
The men with ten toes down.
(this Spanish toast starts out with the man holding his glass above the woman’s and saying):
“At times above you,”
(then he moves his glass below hers and says):
“At times below you,”
(then he clinks the glasses and says):
“Always beside you,”
(then he pours a little of whatever he has in his glass into hers and says):
“And sometimes inside you!”
(In Spanish):
“A veces abajo de ti,
A veces debajo de ti,
Siempre a lado de ti,
A veces a dentro de ti!”
To a life well-lived:
Here’s to me in my sober mood,
When I ramble, sit, and think.
Here’s to me in my drunken mood,
When I gamble, sin, and drink.
And when my days are over,
And from this world I pass,
I hope they bury me upside down,
So the world can kiss my ass!
To drink:
Times are hard,
And wages are small,
So drink more beer,
And fuck ’em all.
If I had a dog that could piss this stuff (hold up beer mug)
And if I thought he could piss enough
I’d tie his head to the foot of the bed
And suck his dick till we both were dead!
THE TWO SHITS OF VERONA
A Tragedy in Five Scenes by Francis Seidov Bacon
Contributed by Richard Applebee, Barbados HHH
Introduction
This is the earliest and worst of Bacon’s plays, probably written about the
time of the last Banks Holiday in Barbados. The plot is sauced from
B_arnaise the Elder whose piquant writings influenced the young Bacon
during his formative years. The spectator is called upon to accept much that
is improbable and the play has none of the lyrical realism which
characterised his later works such as Omelette, Prince of Denmark, and Henry
Binnema, Part II. There can be no sympathy for the main characters whose
outrageous and unnatural cruelty drive them to their tragic doom.
Dramatis Personae
James Elliot, a butcher
Rob Bateson, a fisherman
Derek Russell, a herald (and RA)
John Clooney, a FRB
Alison Elliot, a loyal wife
Mark Doktoroff, a doctor
Malcolm Gibbons, a baker
Annie Seymour, an officer from HMS Boxer
Peppermint, a dog
About forty hashers including naval ratings.
Scene I
A rain-swept clump of trees close to Morgan Lewis beach. Several battered
vehicles lie on their sides after traversing a mile of impassable terrain.
Bruised hashers tend their wounds as if after a battle. A lynching mob is
being organised. Enter James Elliot carrying a dead pig.
Rob: Alas, poor Grunwell, I knew him well!
All: Let fall thy chopper. Despair and die!
James: Friends, Baijans, Hashermen
Give me your beers.
I come to cook this pig
Not to bury it!
The evil I have done lives after me
But the good is on these bones.
For thee alone – $6 a plate.
Peppermint: Woof, woof.
Alarums sound
Exeunt all, shouting ON-ON
Scene II
A blasted heath half way to Foster’s Fun Land. The hashers are
unrecognisable. A number have drowned crossing two raging torrents and Jan
Bateson has sunk to her ears in a puddle. All are covered in mud and several
shoes have been lost.The trail of flour has disappeared in the lashing rain.
Enter John, returning from St Nicholas’ Abbey.
Derek: ARE YOU?
John: To be or not to be,
That is the question
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind
To follow the rings and arrows of outrageous hashers
Or return to find the loathsome hares
And by strangulation, end them.
Jan: But soft! What light through yonder tree fork breaks?
It is a dot and then another.
Arise fair hashers, the trail is found
Let’s to the beach!
Peppermint: Out! Out! damned spots
Exeunt all, shouting as before
Scene III
Morgan Lewis Beach. The waves pound the shore. A bedraggled line of hashers
stumbles South, leaning into the wind. Only Malcolm Gibbons, delirious,
runs in the sea. Enter Mark Doctoroff, going North with an escort.
Mark: Hail fellows! Well met!
God and your legs be praised, victorious friends!
All: Oh, sod off, Mark.
Derek: Over hill and over dale
Through bog and beach
Through flood, through fire
I have hashed everywhere.
Swifter I, than Patti Roach
Picking up a sailor!
John: The on-in draws nigh!
Those hares shall burn in never quenching fire.
Come! Let us rid the world of their foul presence.
John rushes to the bar and collapses, weeping. Slowly the other hashers
stagger in and order Banks. Some are armed with axes and prepare to execute
the hares.
Scene IV
The bar. James and Rob are on their knees before the podium. Derek, dressed
in the RA’s regalia stands on the podium and gives orders that the shit
shirt be made particularly revolting for the occasion. The pig is roasting
in the China box, but many hashers feel that the hares should take its place.
Derek: O, be thou damned, inexecrable dogs!
Peppermint: Who me?
Alison: The quality of mercy is not strain’d.
It droppeth like this downpour from heaven
Upon the bog beneath.
GUILTY!
Derek: Thou hast undone thyselves. Prepare to die.
I shame to hear thee speak, O timorous wretches.
Thou hast besmirched us with mud and set a most piteous hash.
Some are born shits, some achieve shittiness And some have shittiness thrust
upon them.
But thou takest the biscuit.
Therefore, DRINK !
The hares don the shirt. Furious hashers cover them with mud and sand. Ruth
Palmer casts a bucket of cold water over them to express her appreciation of
the hash. The bar is opened and several more die in the rush.
Scene V
Unfortunately, Bacon never completed this scene because drunkenness overtook
him, or perhaps because he ate some of Elliot’s pig. The only surviving
fragments of the manuscript refer disjointedly to a game of cricket and a
tug-of-war on the beach. How exciting the final d_nouement may have been can
best be judged from the following scrap of dialogue, scribbled at the bottom
of the last quarto, apparently referring to the tug-of war.
Annie Seymour: Men of HMS Boxer! Take up the slack! PULL!
Malcolm Gibbons: Hashers of the BHHH! Take up the slack: PUSH!
Exeunt all, thoroughly plastered after a great day at the beach. Thanks to
the hares and to all those who joined in the fun.
THE WORLD ACCORDING TO STUDENT BLOOPERS
By Richard Lederer (copyrighted material)
One of the fringe benefits of being an English or History teacher is receiving the occasional jewel of a student blooper in an essay. I have pasted together the following “history” of the world from certifiably genuine student bloopers collected by teachers throughout the United States, from eighth grade through college level. Read carefully, and you will learn a lot.
The inhabitants of ancient Egypt were called mummies. They lived in the Sarah Dessert and traveled by Camelot. The climate in the Sarah is such that the inhabitants have to live elsewhere, so certain areas of the dessert are cultivated by irritation. The Egyptians built the pyramids in the shape of a huge triangular cube. The pyramids are a range of mountains between France and Spain.
The Bible is full of interesting caricatures. In the first book of the Bible, Guinesses, Adam and Eve were created from an apple tree. One of their children, Cain, once asked, “Am I my brother’s son?” God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac on Mount Montezuma. Jacob, son of Isaac, stole his brother’s birth mark. Jacob was a patriarch who brought up his twelve sons to be patriarchs, but they did not take to it. One of Jacob’s sons, Joseph, gave refuse to the Israelites.
Pharaoh forced the Hebrew slaves to make bread without straw. Moses led them to the Red Sea, where they made unleavened bread, which is bread made without any ingredients. Afterwards, Moses went up on Mount Cyanide to get the ten commandments. David was a Hebrew king skilled at playing the liar. He fought with the philatelists, a race of people who lived in biblical times. Solomon, one of David’s sons, had 500 wives and 500 porcupines.
Without the Greeks we wouldn’t have history. The Greeks invented three kinds of columns – Corinthian, Doric, and Ironic. They also had myths. A myth is a female moth. One myth says that the mother of Achilles dipped him in the River Stynx until he became intollerable. Achilles appears in The Iliad, by Homer. Homer also wrote The Oddity, in which Penelope was the last hardship that Ulysses endured on his journey. Actually, Homer was not written by Homer but by another man of that name.
Socrates was a famous Greek teacher who went around giving people advice. They killed him. Socrates died from an overdose of wedlock.
In the Olympic games, Greeks ran races, jumped, hurled the biscuits, and threw the java. The reward to the victor was a coral wreath. The government of Athens was democratic because people took the law into their own hands. There were no wars in Greece, as the mountains were so high that they couldn’t climb over to see what their neighbors were doing. When they fought with the Persians, the Greeks were outnumbered because the Persians had more men.
Eventually the Ramons conquered the Geeks. History calls people Romans because they never stayed in one place for very long. At Roman banquets, the guests wore garlics in their hair. Julius Caesar extinguished himself on the battlefields of Gaul. The Ides of March murdered him because they thought he was going to be made king. Nero was a cruel tyranny who would torture his poor subjects by playing the fiddle to them.
Then came the middle ages. King Alfred conquered the Dames, King Arthur lived in the Age of Shivery, King Harold mustarded his troops before the Battle of Hastings, Joan of Arc was cannonized by Bernard Shaw, and victims of the Black Death grew boobs on their necks. Finally, the Magna Carta provided that no free man should be hanged twice for the same offense.
In midevil times most of the people were alliterate. The greatest writer of the time was Chaucer, who wrote many poems and verses and also wrote literature. Another tale tells of William Tell, who shot an arrow through an apple while standing on his son’s head.
The Renaissance was an age in which more individuals felt the value of their human being. Martin Luther was nailed to the church door at Wittenberg for selling papal indulgences. He died a horrible death, being excommunicated by a bull. It was the painter Donatello’s interest in the female nude that made him the father of the Renaissance. It was an age of great inventions and discoveries. Gutenberg invented the Bible. Sir Walter Raleigh is a historical figure because he invented cigarettes. Another important invention was the circulation of blood. Sir Francis Drake circumcised the world with a 100-foot clipper.
The government of England was a limited mockery. Henry VIII found walking difficult because he had an abbess on his knee. Queen Elizabeth was the “Virgin Queen.” As a queen she was a success. When Elizabeth exposed herself before her troops, they all shouted, “hurrah.” Then her navy went out and defeated the Spanish Armadillo.
The greatest writer of the Renaissance was William Shakespear. Shakespear never made much money and is famous only because of his plays. He lived at Windsor with his merry wives, writing tragedies, comedies, and errors. In one of Shakespear’s famous plays, Hamlet rations out his situation by relieving himself in a long soliloquy. In another, Lady Macbeth tries to convince Macbeth to kill the King by attacking his manhood. Romeo and Juliet are an example of a heroic couplet. Writing at the same time as Shakespear was Miguel Cervantes. He wrote Donkey Hote. The next great author was John Milton. Milton wrote Paradise Lost. Then his wife died and he wrote Paradise Regained.
During the Renaissance America began. Christopher Columbus was a great navigator who discovered America while cursing about the Atlantic. His ships were called the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Fe. Later, the Pilgrims crossed the ocean, and this was known as Pilgrims Progress. When they landed at Plymouth Rock, they were greeted by the Indians, who came down the hill rolling their war hoops before them. The Indian squabs carried porpoises on their back. Many of the Indian heroes were killed, along with their cabooses, which proved very fatal to them. The winter of 1620 was a hard one for the settlers. Many people died and many babies were born. Captain John Smith was responsible for all this.
One of the causes of the Revolutionary War was the English put tacks in the tea. Also, the colonists would send their parcels through the post without stamps. During the War, the Red Coats and Paul Revere was throwing balls over stone walls. The dogs were barking and the peacocks crowing. Finally, the colonists won the War and no longer had to pay for taxis.
Delegates from the original thirteen states formed the Contented Congress. Thomas Jefferson, a Virgin, and Benjamin Franklin were two singers of the Declaration of Independence. Franklin had gone to Boston carrying all his clothes in his pocket and a loaf of bread under each arm. He invented electricity by rubbing cats backwards and declared, “A horse divided against itself cannot stand.” Franklin died in 1790 and is still dead.
George Washington married Martha Curtis and in due time became the Father of our Country. Then the Constitution of the United States was adopted to secure domestic hostility. Under the Constitution the people enjoyed the right to keep bare arms.
Abraham Lincoln became America’s greatest precedent. Lincoln’s mother died in infancy, and he was born in a log cabin which he built with his own hands. When Lincoln was President, he wore only a tall silk hat. He said, “In onion there is strength.” Abraham Lincoln wrote the Gettysburg Address while traveling from Washington to Gettysburg on the back of an envelope. He also freed the slaves by signing the Emasculation Proclamation, and the Fourteenth Amendment gave the ex-Negroes citizenship. But the Clue Clux Clan would torcher and lynch the ex-Negroes and other innocent victims. It claimed it represented law and odor. On the night of April 14, 1865, Lincoln went to the theater and got shot in his seat by one of the actors in a moving picture show. The believed assinator was John Wilkes Booth, a supposingly insane actor. This ruined Booth’s career.
Meanwhile in Europe, the enlightenment was a reasonable time. Voltare invented electricity and also wrote a book called Candy. Gravity was invented by Isaac Walton. It is chiefly noticeable in the autumn, when the apples are falling off the trees.
Bach was the most famous composer in the world, and so was Handel. Handel was half German, half Italian, and half English. He was very large. Bach died from 1750 to the present. Beethoven wrote music even though he was deaf. He was so deaf he wrote loud music. He took long walks in the forest, even when everyone was calling for him. Beethoven expired in 1827 and later died for this.
France was in a very serious state. The French Revolution was accomplished before it happened. The Marseillaise was the theme song of the French Revolution, and it catapulted into Napoleon. During the Napoleonic wars, the crowned heads of Europe were trembling in their shoes. Then the Spanish gorillas came down from the hills and nipped at Napoleon’s flanks. Napoleon became ill with bladder problems and was very tense and unrestrained. He wanted an heir to inherit his power, but since Josephine was a baroness, she couldn’t bear children.
The sun never set on the British Empire because the British Empire is in the East and the sun sets in the West. Queen Victoria was the longest queen. She sat on a thorn for 63 years. Her reclining years and finally the end of her life were exemplatory of a great personality. Her death was the final event which ended her reign.
The nineteenth century was a time of many great inventions and thoughts. The invention of the steamboat caused a network of rivers to spring up. Cyrus McCormick invented the McCormick raper, which did the work of a hundred men. Samuel Morse invented a code of telepathy. Louis Pasteur discovered a cure for rabbis. Charles Darwin was a naturalist who wrote the Organ of the Species. Madman Curie discovered radium. And Karl Marx became one of the Marx brothers.
The First World War, caused by the assignation of the Arch-Duck by a surf, ushered in a new error in the anals of human history.
——————————————————————————–
SWEET LOVIN’
Abortion
A Few of My Favorite Things
All My Jism
A-Rovin’
“A,” You’re a Big Bimbo
“A”, You’ve Got Asshole Stains
Ali Boogie
Baby Won’t You Blow
Ball of Yarn
Ballad of the Bobbitt Hillbillies
Be My Guest
Big Bamboo
Blew by You
Boom, Oooh, Yakatata
By the Light
Bye, Bye Cherry
Chapped Hide
Christopher and Alice
Come and Sit On My Face If You Love Me
Crock of Shit
Cucumber Song
Divorce Game
Don’t that Bastard Get any Bigger?
Don’t Say No
Do You Fuck on First Dates?
Engineer’s Dream
Enormous Penis Song
Fanny Bay
Fondle Me With Care
Free Ballin’
Furburger King
Gang Bang
Gender Bender Song
Get it Up, Get it In
Give Me a Clone
God Bless My Underpants
Gonorrhea
Great Big Wheel
Green Grow the Rashes O
Hand Solo Song
Harvest of Love
Hello Penis
Herpes Family
Herpes Song
Hot Vagina
Hot Vagina Redeux
How Ashamed I Was
How to Handle a Date
I Don’t Want to Join the Army
I Don’t Want to Join the Convent
I Like Cock
I Like Cunt
I Love My Wife
I Put My Hand
I Put My Lips
If I Were the Marrying Kind
I’ll Never Piss Again
In the Mood
Isn’t it Awfully Nice to Have a Penis?
Isn’t it Great to Have a Clitoris?
I’ve Got a Start on a Twelve-Inch Hard-On
Jamaica Farewell
Keyhole Song
La Cock
Let Me Ball You Sweetheart
Let’s Screw
Little Penis
Long and Thin
Lotsa Fucking
Man Trap
Marriage a la Mode
Masturbata
Masturbation (Fornication)
Masturbation Song
My Little Pink Panties
No Balls at All
Nude
One-Eyed Trouser Snake
One Twat
Oral Sex
Penis Breath
Penis Song
Portions of a Woman
Pregnancy (and Variations)
Pubic Hairs!
Put Your Left Leg Over My Shoulder
Put Your Legs Round My Shoulders (Harriers)
Put Your Legs Round My Shoulders (Harriettes)
Put Your Thighs on My Shoulders
Rawhide
Real Story of Gilligan’s Island
Ringadangdoo
Roll Me over in the Clover
Rotten Cocksuckers’ Ball
Rubber Dickie
Rubber Dildo
Seven Nervous Days
Sex is Boring
She Had Big Mountains . . .
Sit on My Face (two versions)
Sit on My Face and Tell Me That You Love Me
Square Dance
Sunstroke, Syphilis, Varicose Veins
Supercallousflagellisticsexpect-cunnilingus
Syphilis
Take Me Out For a Good Ball
Take Me Out to the Gang Bang
The Triangle
These Foolish Things
Waves and Waves
Wedding Song
When the End of the Month Rolls Around
Who Is In the Kitchen With Ah Hin?
Who Needs Sex?
Will You Marry Me?
ABORTION
Melody – Jada
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak HHH
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Well you get that poker nice and hot,
Then you shove it way up in her twat.
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Sticks and coat hangers and all the rest,
But I like Drano, it’s the best.
Abortion, Abortion, A-B-O-R-T-I-O-N (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Blow Job, Blow Job, B-L-O-W J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Blow Job, Blow Job, B-L-O-W J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Eastside, westside, northside, south,
My baby likes it best when I cum in her mouth.
Blow Job, Blow Job, B-L-O-W J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Bum Fuck, Bum Fuck, B-U-M F-U-C-K (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Bum Fuck, Bum Fuck, B-U-M F-U-C-K (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Eastside, westside, northside, down,
My baby likes it best when I cum in her brown.
Bum Fuck, Bum Fuck, B-U-M F-U-C-K (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Dirtbag, Dirtbag, D-I-R-T-B-A-G (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Dirtbag, Dirtbag, D-I-R-T-B-A-G (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
They may be fat and they may be thin,
But – they ‘re all beauty queens when you get it in.
Dirtbag, Dirtbag, D-I-R-T-B-A-G (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Hand Job , Hand Job, H-A-N-D J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Hand Job, Hand Job, H-A-N-D J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
You wrap your hand around your gland,
You slap it around ’til it just won’t stand.
Hand Job , Hand Job, H-A-N-D J-O-B (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Muff Dive, Muff Dive, M-U-F-F D-I-V-E (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Muff Dive, Muff Dive, M-U-F-F D-I-V-E (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
She wraps her legs around your face,
You lick and slobber all over the place.
Muff Dive, Muff Dive, M-U-F-F D-I-V-E (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Poop Shoot, Poop Shoot, P-O-O-P S-H-O-O-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum
Poop Shoot, Poop Shoot, P-O-O-P S-H-O-O-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Back door, cornhole, it’s a gas,
You ram that pecker right up her ass.
Poop Shoot, Poop Shoot, P-O-O-P S-H-O-O-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Scrotum, Scrotum, S-C-R-O-T-U-M (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Scrotum, Scrotum, S-C-R-O-T-U-M (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Well it’s mangy, rangey, and covered with hair,
But what would you do if it wasn’t there?
Scrotum, Scrotum, S-C-R-O-T-U-M (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Sodomy, Sodomy, S-O-D-O-M-Y (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Sodomy, Sodomy, S-O-D-O-M-Y (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
you put the sheep’s legs inside your boots,
so she won’t change her mind when you’re about to shoot.
Sodomy, Sodomy, S-O-D-O-M-Y (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Swallow, Swallow, S-W-A-L-L-O-W (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Swallow, Swallow, S-W-A-L-L-O-W (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
She’ll swallow it all and she’ll swallow it well,
She’ll swallow it all ’cause she ain’t on the pill.
Swallow, Swallow, S-W-A-L-L-O-W (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Taint, Taint, T-A-i-N-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Taint, Taint, T-A-I-N-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
It’s not the ass and it’s not the cunt,
It’s the little bit of heaven ‘tween the rear and the front.
Taint, Taint, T-A-I-N-T (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Smegma, Smegma, S-M-E-G-M-A (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum
Smegma, Smegma, S-M-E-G-M-A (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
It’s white and cheesy, and it smells like taint,
But if you eat too much, you’re liable to faint.
Smegma, Smegma, S-M-E-G-M-A (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Tit Fuck, Tit Fuck, T-I-T F-U-C-K Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Tit Fuck, Tit Fuck, T-I-T F-U-C-K (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Northside, southside, eastside, west,
My baby likes it best when I cum on her chest.
Oh Tit Fuck, Tit Fuck, T-I-T F-U-C-K (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Titties, Titties, T-I-T-T-I-E-S (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum
Titties, Titties, T-I-T-T-I-E-S (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
Well they’re just a part of the epiderm,
But I like ’em best when they’re big and firm.
Titties, Titties, T-I-T-T-I-E-S (Ba-Bum, Bum, Bum)
A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS
Melody – A Few of My Favorite Things
Harriers:
Middle and Pinky and Index and Ring,
Throw in the thumb and you’ve got the whole thing,
It works just fine and it’s also quite safe,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the dawn breaks,
When I wake up,
And it’s feeling hard,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And that’s when it feels so good.
Penthouse and Playboy and something called Forum,
They’re what I use to help start something going,
Centerfolds spread-eagled showing me pink,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When I’m lonely,
Really lonely,
By myself again,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And that’s when it feels so good.
Harriettes:
Dildos and vibrators and vaseline jelly,
That’s what I use to set fires in my belly,
In and out up and down making me wet,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Men are useless,
I don’t need them,
I’m the best I’ve had,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And that’s when it feels so good.
Tight buns, silk undies, and erotic books,
Make me excited – I’m starting to cook,
I stir me up and the honey will come,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When I’m thinking,
Of a hard cock,
But I don’t see one,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And that’s when it feels so good.
ALL MY JISM
Melody – All My Lovin’
Composed by Crabs, San Francisco HHH, for Gay to Flakers ’95
Harriers:
Close your eyes, spread your legs,
Let me fertilize your eggs,
Remember, I’ll always be true.
And then while I’m away,
I’ll beat off every day,
And send all my jism to you.
Harriettes:
He’ll pretend to be kissing,
The lips used for pissing,
While fondling his balls so blue.
And then while I’m not home,
He’ll be stroking his bone,
And sending his jism to me.
Harriers:
All my jism, I will send to you.
All my jism, you can have my spew.
All my jism, alllllll my jism,
All my jism, I will send to you.
Harriettes:
I will sing this bright chorus,
While I rub my clitoris,
With my dildo so tried and true.
And then while you’re away,
I will vibrate away,
And send all my jism to you.
Harriers:
All my jism, I will send to you.
All my jism, you can have my spew.
All my jism, alllllll my jism,
All my jism, I will send to you.
A-ROVIN’
Melody – I’ll No More Go A-Rovin’
Contributed by Zippy
In Amsterdam there lived a maid,
Mark well what I do say.
In Amsterdam there lived a maid,
And she was mistress of her trade.
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
Chorus:
A-rovin’, a-rovin’, since rovin’ been my ru-i-in,
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
I put my hand upon her knee.
Mark well what I do say.
I put my hand upon her knee.
She said, “Young man, you’re rather free.”
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
I put my hand upon her thigh.
Mark well what I do say.
I put my hand upon her thigh.
She said, “Young man, you’re rather high.”
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
I put my hand upon her snatch.
Mark well what I do say.
I put my hand upon her snatch.
She said, “Young man, that’s my main hatch.”
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
She rolled me over on my back.
Mark well what I do say.
She rolled me over on my back.
And fucked so had my balls did crack
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
And then I slipped her on the blocks
Mark well what I do say.
And then I slipped her on the blocks
She said, “Young man, I’ve got the pox.”
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
And when she spent my whole year’s pay,
Mark well what I do say.
And when she spent my whole year’s pay,
She slipped her anchor and sailed away.
I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid.
“A,” YOU’RE A BIG BIMBO
Melody – “A,” You’re Adorable
By Flying Booger
When (harrier’s name) was serenading (harriette’s name),
He sure could quote a lot of poetry
But he’d much rather tell her
What he learned in his classroom
When they both attended PS Thirty-Three . . .
A, you’re a big bimbo,
B, you’ve got boobs not brains,
C, you go for any cock at all,
D, like ev’ry dumbass skirt,
E, you exist to flirt,
F, did I hear a pussy fart?
G, you’ve got gonorrhea,
H, pubic hair to your knees,
I, eyes that sneak and peek and twitch,
J, you can jack my jizz,
K, you can kiss my phizz,
L, you’re a lyin’ two-faced bitch,
M-N-O-P, menstrual stains on your sheet,
Q-R-S-T, alphabetically speaking you’re a C-U-N-T
U, make my penis ooze,
V-D down to your feet,
W-X-Y-Z,
I love to wander through the alphabet with you,
To tell the Harriers what you mean to me.
“A,” YOU’VE GOT ASSHOLE STAINS
Melody – “A,” You’re Adorable
When (harriette’s name) was serenading (harrier’s name),
She sure could quote a lot of poetry
But she’d much rather tell him
What she learned in her classroom
When they both attended PS thirty-three . . .
A, you’ve got asshole stains,
B, you’ve got balls for brains,
C, you’ve hardly got a cock at all,
D, like a dorker’s tool,
E, your ass exudes stool,
F, your farts smell like fucking shit,
G, you’ve got gonorrhea,
H, hemorrhoids to your knees,
I, eyes that run and bleed and itch,
J, you can jack your jizz,
K, you can kiss my phizz,
L, fuckin’ lousy son-of-a-bitch,
M-N-O-P, menstrual blood on your prick,
Q-R-S-T, alphabetically speaking you’re S-H-I-T
U, make my pussy itch,
V-D down to your feet,
W-X-Y-Z,
I love to wander through the alphabet with you,
To tell the Hash what you mean to me.
ALI BOOGIE
Melody – ???
CHORUS:
I boogied last night,
And the night before,
I’m goin’ back tonight,
And boogie some more.
Mama’s on the bottom,
Papa’s on the top,
Baby’s in the attic,
Fillin’ rubbers with snot.
Mama’s on the bottom,
Papa’s on the top,
Baby’s in the cradle yellin’,
“Shove it to ‘er, Pop!”
Mama’s in the hospital,
Papa’s in jail,
Sister’s in the corner cryin’,
“Pussy for sale!”
I got a gal,
About six-foot four,
She fucks everything,
Like a two-bit whore.
I got a gal,
She lives on a hill,
She won’t fuck,
But her sister will.
Papa’s got a watch,
Mama’s got a ring,
Sister’s got a baby,
From shakin’ that thing.
One and one makes two,
Two and two makes four,
If the bed breaks down,
We’ll fuck on the floor.
BABY WON’T YOU BLOW
Melody – Dinah Won’t You Go
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
I’ve been screwing in the rail car,
Ten guys in one day.
I’ve been screwing in the rail car,
I’ll go all the way.
Bob the conductor’s in my back door,
The engineer’s stroking ‘tween my thighs,
The brakeman is sucking on my nipples
and they all were heard to say
Baby won’t you blow, baby won’t you blow,
Baby won’t you blow my ho-o-orn.
Baby won’t you blow, baby won’t you blow,
Baby won’t you blow my horn.
I ride the train when I travel.
I never pay, oh no ho ho ho.
I ride the train when I travel
And the crew they all ride me o-o-o.
Hey, you, suck on my toes.
Let’s put that shaft where it go ho ho hoes.
We can have a wild ride,
On the Cuyahoga train.
BALL OF YARN
Melody – Little Ball of Yarn
CHORUS:
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
That’s when I spun her little ball of yarn.
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
That’s when I spun her little ball of yarn.
It was in the month of June, when the flowers are in bloom,
I found her sitting out behind the barn.
As she shoveled up the gobs, I gently pinched her knobs,
And asked to spin her little ball of yarn.
She undressed before my sight, we went at it all the night,
Her little body shaking stem to stern.
And the blackbird and the robin, saw her little butt a’bobbin,
As I spun her little ball of yarn.
It was two months after that, in the office where I sat,
Never dreaming she had done me any harm.
And a doctor dressed in white, said, “Man, your pecker is a sight,
It’s been tangled in a little ball of yarn.”
It was nine months to the day, in the bathtub where I lay,
I felt a heavy hand upon my arm.
And a policeman with a hose, said, “Get up and get your clothes,
You’re the father of a little ball of yarn.”
In my prison cell I sit, with my fingers full of shit,
The shadow of my pecker on the wall.
And the ladies as they pass, stick hatpins in my ass,
And little mice play hopscotch with my little ball of yarn.
THE BALLAD OF THE BOBBITT HILLBILLIES
Melody – The Beverly Hillbillies
Contributed by Ian Cumming, New York HHH
Come and listen to my story of a man named John,
A poor ex-Marine with a little fraction gone.
It seems one night after gettin’ with the wife,
She lopped off his schlong with the swipe of a knife.
(Penis that is, clean cut, missed his nuts)
Well, the next thing you know there’s a Ginsu by his side,
And Lorena’s in the car takin’ Willie for a ride.
She soon got tired of her purple-headed friend,
And tossed him out the window as she went around a bend.
(Curve that is, pricker shrubs, wheel hubs)
She went to the cops and confessed to the attack,
And they called out the hounds just to get his weenie back.
They sniffed and they barked and they pointed “over there,”
To John Wayne’s Henry that was waving in the air.
(Found that is, by a fence, evidence)
Now Peter and John couldn’t stay apart too long,
So a Dick Doc said, “Hey I can fix that Dong!”
“A needle and a thread is all you’re gonna need,”
And the whole world waited till they heard that Johnny peed.
(Whizzed that is, even seam, straight stream)
Well, he healed and he hardened and he took his case to court,
With a cockeyed lawyer since his assets came up short.
They cleared her of assault and acquitted him of rape,
And his pecker was the only one they didn’t show on tape.
(Video that is, unexposed, case closed)
Ya all “cum” back now, ya hear!
BE MY GUEST
Melody – Be Our Guest (from the movie “Beauty and the Beast”)
Contributed by Spikes, Whips, and Poles, Heidelberg HHH, who credits the new lyrics to non-hashers John P. Daly and Scott Danby
Be my guest
Be my guest
Put my service to the test
Wrap your legs around my waist cherie
And I will do the rest
Menage a trois, 69
Without your clothes you look just fine
Try the white stuff, it’s delicious
Don’t believe me? Ask da bitches
They can scream, they can moan
When I give them all the bone
Cuz a screwing here is never 2nd best!
Come on unzip my pants
Then take a look, a glance
Be my guest!
I’m the best!
Be my guest!
Be my love
Be my slave
Let’s kick back and watch some Dave
I’ll prepare
Extraordinaire
And then I’ll spelunk in your cave
We’re alone and you’re scared
But the bedroom’s all prepared
No one’s ever been complaining
Cuz I’m always entertaining
I sell smokes, you turn trix
I’m the dick to end all Dicks!
Lick me, bite me, suck me, blow me, give me head
You’re such a nice young lass
Come on and shake your ass
Be my guest
If you’re stressed
It’s my love spear I suggest
Be my guest
I’m the best
Be my guest!
Life is disconcerting
To a flirter who’s not flirting
He’s not whole without a soul
To jump upon
Ah those good old days when I was fruitful
Tonight we’ll be fruitful until dawn
Three weeks it’s been missing
Needing so much more than kissing
Needing exercise, a chance to use its skill
Most days I just jerk off in the bathroom
Flabby, fat and lazy
You walk in and I go crazy
It’s a guest!
It’s a guest!
Sakes alive she’s got a chest
Wine’s been poured
And I’ve been bored
Gosh I’d love to stroke her breast
With dessert she’ll want me
With some luck we’ll make it three
While the bed starts in a-squeaking
I’ll be coming, I’ll be peaking
You’ll get warm, piping hot
Heaven’s sakes, is that a spot?
Clean it up, we want the company impressed.
I’ve got you to do
Was that one fuck or two?
For you my guest
She’s my guest
My command is your request
It’s been three weeks since
I’ve seen anybody’s peaks
And I’m obsessed
You’re a treat, you’re a tease
Yes indeed I aim to please
Through the night we’ll keep a-going
Pretty soon you’ll be a glowing
Thrust by thrust
One by one
Till you shout “Enough, I’ve come”
Then I’ll whisk you off to bed for oral sex
Tonight you’ll prop your feet up
And I’ll start to eat up
Be my guest
I’m the best!
BE MY GUEST!
BIG BAMBOO
Melody – Working For the Yankee Dollar
I asked my lady what should I do,
To make her happy, not make her blue,
She said, “The only thing I want from you,
Is a little bitty of the big bamboo.”
CHORUS:
She wanted the big bamboo, bamboo,
Eye eye-eye eye-eye-eye,
Working for the Yankee dollar.
So I gave her a coconut,
She said, “I like him, he’s okay,
But there’s just one thing that worries me,
What good are the nuts without the tree?”
So I sold my lady a banana plant,
She said, “I like him, he’s elegant,
We should not let him go to waste,
But he’s much too soft to suit my taste.”
So I bought my lady a sugar cane,
The fruit of fruits, I did explain,
But she was tired of him very quick,
She said, “I’d rather get my lips around your dip stick.”
So I gave my honey a rambutan,
Soft and prickly, how the juices ran,
She said, “I’ve seen a fruit like this before,
But it had a long stalk and two pips in the core.”
She met a chinaman, Him Hung Low,
They got married, went to Mexico,
But she divorced him very quick,
She said, “I want bamboo, not chopstick.”
BLEW BY YOU
Melody – Blue Bayou?
Contributed by Mike “SmallBone” Featherston
I feel brand new; I’ve got a healthy mind.
It’s getting better all of the time
Since I left my old girl behind and got blew by you.
Savin’ nickels, saving dimes.
Puttin’ em where the sun don’t shine
Lookin’ forward to the next time I get blew by you.
I’m coming back today, I save my pay to get blew by you.
Oh, it feels real fine, only costs a dime to get blew by you.
Wo’ you raised my hopes when you reached for the soap, it’s more than I had dreamed
Oh, your suntanned thighs, your moans and cries, how happy I’ll be.
I can’t wait to see you again.
Until then I’ll just use my hand
I know I’ll feel better again, when I’m blew by you.
Roses on my piano are nice, but two lips on my organ all night
Make me crazy cause I sure like to get blew by you.
I’m coming back real soon at the midnight moon for that special trick
Cause there ain’t no doubt when your teeth come out, you really got it licked.
Oh, I just can’t hide how I feel inside when we play horsey and I get to ride
If Cosell would show and call it blow by blow, he’d go cross-eyed.
All the guys on the farm would give their right arm to get blew by you!
BOOM, OOOH, YAKATATA
Melody – Will You Kiss Me Tonight
CHORUS (CONTINUOUSLY):
Boom, oooh, yakatata
Will you miss me tonight when I’m gone?
Will you go to bed with your see-through nightie on?
Will you reach out for your little plastic friend,
Put some baby oil around it’s throbbing end?
Will you spare a thought for me while I’m gone?
Will you laugh with your friend over which is long?
Will you slide it up your thighs and up to your crack,
Smile to yourself, Thank God he’s not back?
Will you miss me tonight when I’m gone?
‘Cause the batteries in your friend have almost gone,
And you never could make that charger thing come on?
So now you’ll miss me tonight ’cause I’m gone, try a banana,
‘Cause you’ll miss me tonight ’cause I’m gone,
Ya bitch.
BY THE LIGHT
Melody – By the Light of the Flickering Moon
By the light (by the light, by the light),
Of a flickering match,
I saw her snatch,
In the watermelon patch.
By the light (by the light, by the light),
Of a flickering match,
I saw it gleam, I heard her scream,
You are burning my snatch,
With your fucking match.
BYE BYE CHERRY
Melody – Bye Bye Blackbird
From the songbook of the 43rd Tactical Fighter Squadron, Elmendorf A.F.B., Alaska
Back your ass against the wall,
Here I come, balls and all,
Bye, bye, cherry!
Won’t your mother be disgusted,
When she finds your cherry’s busted,
Bye, bye, cherry!
Wrap your legs around a little tighter,
I can feel my load is getting lighter,
Shake your ass and wiggle your tits,
Till my little pecker spits,
Cherry, bye bye!
CHAPPED HIDE
Melody – Rawhide
Ballin’, ballin’, ballin’,
That boy he keeps on callin’,
His crabs, they keep on crawlin’,
Chapped hide!
You thought he was the right one,
But he was a one-night stand one,
He’s shootin’ blanks with his gun,
Chapped hide!
Pick him up, take him home, ride him hard, make him moan!
Wake him up, saddle up, Send him home!
Chapped hide . . . Yee Haw!!
CHRISTOPHER AND ALICE
Singsong Nursery Rhyme
Contributed by Ian Cumming, who offers the following explanation: “‘Plate’ (verb transitive) is short for Plate of Ham, rhyming slang for Gam, short for Gamarouche, slang for Cunnilingus, or more specifically Penilingisism.”
Inside the yard at Buckingham Palace,
Christopher Robin went down on Alice.
“Dear little Christopher knows his stuff,
At ‘Trying the Beard’ and ‘Noshing the Muff.'”
– Says Alice
Inside the yard at Buckingham Palace,
Christopher Robin’s still gobblin’ Alice.
“One more time, then after lunch,
I’ll reciprocate and ‘Munch the Trunch.'”
– Says Alice
Christopher Robin is getting his knob in,
Alice is down and gobblin’ Robin.
She won’t say a word while ‘Tonguing the Tool,’
“Cos it’s rude to talk when your mouth is full.”
– Says Alice
They’re plating away at Buckingham Palace,
Alice plates Robin and Robin plates Alice.
They’re laying down upon the turf,
“Nothing compares with a Soixante Neuf.”
– Says Alice
COME AND SIT ON MY FACE IF YOU LOVE ME
Melody – Red River Valley
Contributed by Sky Queen, St Louis/Belleville HHH; also known as “Take It in the Hand, Mrs Murphy”
Come and sit on my face, if you love me,
Come and sit on my face, if you care,
And I’ll drink from your Red River Valley,
And munch on your curly pubic hairs.
Oh, if I had the wings of an eagle,
And the balls of a hairy baboon,
I would fly to the ends of creation,
And I’d butt-fuck the Man in the Moon.
Oh, take it in the hand, Mrs Murphy,
It feels just like a rolling pin.
But if you roll it between your hands,
It’ll take some time to be useful again.
Oh, take it in the mouth, Mrs Murphy,
It only weighs a quarter of a pound.
It’s got hairs round its neck like a turkey,
And it spits when you shake it up and down.
Oh, take it between the breasts, Mrs Murphy,
And look it staight in its one eye.
It will lie at peace between your bosom,
Until finally milk-tears you cry.
Oh, place it between your legs, Mrs Murphy,
It is just aching to crawl inside.
It has a helmet on its head like a soldier,
And it will shoot all its ammo, then die.
Oh, but never touch Flying Booger’s (insert hasher’s name), Mrs Murphy,
It seems his is covered with scabs.
His’s has warts all over like a horny toad,
And is protected by an army of crabs.
CROCK OF SHIT
Melody – Unknown (slow blues)
Contributed by Zippy
I’ve been married thirty years,
Shared my hopes and shared my fears,
What I made, spent ev’ry bit,
Man this love’s a crock of shit.
I sent all my kids to school,
Now they think that I’m a fool,
They don’t like me ’cause I spit,
Man this love’s a crock of shit.
After work most every night,
I came home – we had a fight,
My wife always was a wit,
Man this love’s a crock of shit.
If you haven’t yet got wed,
Listen close to what I’ve said,
Freedom’s still within your mitt;
Man this love’s a crock of shit.
CUCUMBER SONG
Melody – Botany Bay
A restless young lady from Phuket,
Developed a wonderful trend,
To purchase cucumbers for pleasure,
‘Cause she found they were better than men.
CHORUS:
So line up for your cucumbers, ladies,
They’re selling for two bucks apiece,
Your frustrated days are all over,
‘Cause cucumbers never get pissed.
In Asia they’re eaten with chilies,
In Britain they’re put between bread,
But in Phuket we use them as teddies,
‘Cause we know that they’ll never want head.
They’ll never leave stains on the mattress,
They’re happy to live in the fridge,
The loo seat is never left standing,
And I’ve never seen cucumber kids.
So watch out you self-centered guys,
You’re not quite as great as you think,
There’s no guarantee it will work again,
And we can’t trade you in when it shrinks.
DIVORCE GAME
Melody – Take Me Out to the Ball Game
contributed by Slippery Beaver, Huachuca HHH
Make me out as the bad guy,
Smear my name across town,
Tell ’em that I don’t pay child support,
My breath is bad and my dick is too short,
And it’s all my fault for the whole thing,
The man is always to blame,
Lose your HOUSE! CAR! And half of your pay,
In the Di-vorce Gaaaaaame!
DON’T THAT BASTARD GET ANY BIGGER?
Melody – Put Another Log On the Fire
Don’t that bastard get any bigger?
I bet some bitch bit off the last three feet,
It’s wrinkled like a six week old banana,
And got a limp a cripple couldn’t beat.
Come on, baby,
Can’t you make it go any faster?
And don’t forget to let me get there first.
Don’t that bastard get any bigger?
You’re lucky someone understands, like me.
Don’t that paycheck get any fatter?
And don’t forget my birthday’s in a week,
What about the tennis courts you promised,
And how about Hawaii for a break?
Come on, baby,
Climb another rung in that ladder,
You haven’t had a pay raise since New Year’s.
Don’t that paycheck get any fatter?
You’re lucky someone understands, like me.
Don’t let that heart rate go any faster,
Jesus, why do you have to work so hard?
You never stay at home on the weekends,
No wonder your banana’s never ripe.
Come on, baby,
You hang around the office till all hours,
I bet you’ve got a brand new secretary,
Don’t let that heart rate go any faster,
You’re lucky someone understands, like me.
DON’T SAY NO
Melody – ???
Oh my darling, don’t say no,
Onto the sofa you must go.
Up with your petticoat,
Down with your drawers,
You tickle mine,
And I’ll tickle yours.
DO YOU FUCK ON FIRST DATES?
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Mike “SmallBone” Featherston (copyrighted material?)
I’ve blown too much of my time,
Buying dinner and wine.
And my money on flowers and lollys,
Only to find that what’s on my mind
Isn’t on hers and she’s sorry.
So I made up some lines
To save wasting time
And to keep me from spending my brass.
I’m ever so cool; I just prop on a stool
Right next to hers and I ask,
“Do you fuck on first dates?
Does your Dad own a brewery?
Can I feel your tits?
Or will you show them to me?
‘Cause you’ve got a nice head
And you look pretty honest.
This face’ll be leaving in quarter of an hour
I’d like you to be on it.”
Well you know how it is when you first meet a Sheila
And the bullshit you gotta’ go through
Like callin’ her up and tellin’ her you love her
When all you want is just a screw.
And how she wants to hold hands and you to meet her Old Man.
And sit around for hours and talk
Well, my new method is, you just cut through the gizz
And get down to the goodies straight off.
“Do you fuck on first dates?
Does your Dad own a brewery?
Can I feel your tits?
Or will you show them to me?
Do you sleep in the nude?
Do you give head very often?
If we can decide, your place or mine, we can fuck of then.
You know how it is when you see a good looking Sheila
And you’d give a weeks pay just to hold her.
Don’t sit acting dumb. Just face her full on
Remember the lines that I told ya’
Now this method of mine might not work every time
But then again no method will.
I’ve been spat at and slapped and kneed in the ‘nads
But then I’ve had a few fucks as well.
“Do you fuck on first dates?
Does your Dad own a brewery?
Can I feel your tits?
Or will you show them to me?
If the answer is no, to the questions above.
Be a good sport and give me the name
Of a girlfriend who does!
THE ENGINEER’S DREAM (THE ENGINEER’S SONG)
Melody – The Great Wheel
An engineer told me before he died,
Ah-humm, ah-humm,
An engineer told me before he died,
Ah-humm, ah-humm,
An engineer told me before he died,
I have no reason to believe he lied.
Ah-humm, ah-humm-ah-humm-ah-humm-ah-humm-ah-humm,
He had a wife with a cunt so wide (three times),
That she could never be satisfied.
So he built a bloody great wheel (three times),
Two balls of brass and a prick of steel.
The balls of brass he filled with cream (three times),
And the whole fucking issue was driven by steam.
He strapped her wrists to the sides of the bed (three times),
He tied her feet above her head.
There she lay demanding a fuck (three times),
He tipped his hat and wished her luck.
Round and round went the bloody great wheel (three times),
In and out went the prick of steel.
Up and up went the level of steam (three times),
Down and down went the level of cream.
Till at last the maiden cried (three times),
“Enough! Enough! I’m satisfied!”
(Slowly . . .)
Now we come to the tragic bit (three times),
There was no way of stopping it.
(Back to speed . . .)
Round and round went the bloody great wheel (three times),
In and out went the prick of steel.
Up and up went the level of steam (three times),
Down and down went the level of cream.
She was split from ass to tit (three times),
And the whole fucking issue was covered in shit.
Other endings (optional):
The moral of this story is mighty clear (three times),
Never fuck an engineer.
The last time, sir, that prick was seen (three times),
It was over in England fucking the Queen.
It jumped off her, it jumped on him (three times),
And then it buggered their next of kin.
It jumped upon an uptown bus (three times),
And the mess it made caused quite a fuss.
Nine months later a child was born (three times),
With two brass balls and a bloody great horn.
Now we come to the bit that’s grim (three times),
It finished with her and started on him.
Now we come to the bit that’s blue (three times),
It finished with him and it’s looking for YOU!
ENORMOUS PENIS SONG
Melody – Itself
Whenever life gets you down,
Keeps you wearin’ a frown,
And the gravy train has left you behind,
And when you’re all out of hope,
Down at the end of your rope,
And nobody’s there to throw you a line.
If you ever get so low,
That you don’t know which way to go,
Come on and take a walk in my shoes,
Never worry ‘bout a thing,
Got the world on a string,
‘Cause I’ve got the cure for all of my blues.
I take a look at my enormous penis,
And my troubles start a-meltin’ away,
I take a look at my enormous penis,
And my happy times are comin’ to stay,
I gotta sing and I dance,
When I glance in my pants,
And I’m feelin’ like a sunshiny day,
I take a look at my enormous pe-e-e-nis,
And a-everything is goin’ my way
(happy whistle interlude)
I take a look at my enormous penis,
And my troubles start a-meltin’ away,
I take a look at my enormous penis,
And my happy times are comin’ to stay,
Yeah I got great big amounts,
In the place where it counts,
And I’m feelin’ like a sunshiny day,
I take a look at my enormous pe-e-e-nis,
And a-everything is goin’ my way,
(My trouser monster)
And a-everything is goin’ my way,
(My meat is murder)
And a-everything is goin’ my way,
(Size doesn’t matter)
Everything is goin’ my waaaaaaay,
Yum.
FANNY BAY
Melody – Botany Bay
Contributed by Zippy
If you ever go across the sea to Darwin,
Then maybe at the closing of the day,
You will see the local harlots at their business,
And watch the sun go down on Fanny Bay.
Some are black and some are white,
And some are brindle,
And some are young
Ad some are old and grey,
But what will cost you twenty quid
In Lower Crown Street,
Will cost you half a zac in Fanny Bay.
FONDLE ME WITH CARE
Melody – Handle Me With Care
I’ve been sucked off and I’ve been struck down,
I’ve been pulled off and I’ve been pulled around,
But you’re the best fuck that I’ve ever found,
Fondle me with care.
CHORUS:
I’m so tired of feeling horny,
I still have some cum to give,
Won’t you show me all your pubic hairs,
Everybody, wants somebody, to cream on,
Put your body, next to mine, and dream on.
I’ve had it thin and I’ve had it thick,
Had my lumps and I’ve had my licks,
But when you play with my prick,
Fondle me with care.
I’ve got big red bloodshot eyes,
We stayed up and drank all night,
When I exposed myself to your wife,
She fondled me with care.
Well I flashed my dick and terrorized,
Put my tongue between your thighs,
Bend over baby and I’ll sodomize,
Fondle me with care.
Well, my balls are tight and I’ve made a mess,
I’ll have to clean up my act I guess,
Let me put my hand up your dress, and,
Fondle you with care.
FREE BALLIN’
Melody – Free Falling by Tom Petty
Composed by Meat Gazer, jHavelina HHH
I have good jewels, that are on me,
Between my legs I’m needing more room.
They’re beginning to swell to my knee,
I wear boxers from Fruit of the Loom.
‘Cause I’m Free! Free Balling!
‘Cause I’m Free! Free Balling!
I run every day with no jock strap,
I have to wear at least some shoes.
I don’t know why I listen to crap,
From urologists who just look for ooze.
‘Cause I’m Free! Free Balling!
‘Cause I’m Free! Free Balling!
I’ve had my day they’re still survivin’,
Thru vasectomy and maybe reverse.
They please me when they’re revivin’,
But I’m taken better care of my purse!
‘Cause I’m no longer Free! Free Balling!
No more Free! Free Balling!
I’m now Free! Free Wrapping.
I foresee! Forestalling!
FURBURGER KING
Melody – Burger King Jingle
Hold my pickle, I’ll eat your lettuce,
Cunnilingus don’t upset us,
All we ask is that you let us,
Have it your way.
Have it your way – sit on my face,
Have it your way – give us a taste,
Have it your way at Furburger King.
(I WANT A) GANG BANG
Melody – Ta-Ra-Ra-Ra-Ra, Boom-De-Ay
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
I want a gang bang if I could,
Because a gang bang feels so good.
When I was younger and in my prime,
I used to gang bang all the time.
Now I’m older and getting gray,
I only gang bang once a day.
Leader: Knock, knock.
Pack: Who’s there?
Leader: Ida.
Pack: Ida who?
Leader: Ida want another gang bang if I could,
Because a gang bang feels so good, etc.
OTHER VERSES:
Mister Bush/Mister Bush and came on her stomach
Ben/Ben dover and have another
Turner/Turner over and have another
Sam and Janet/Sam and Janet evening I’d have a
Bob/Bob down and let’s have another
Orange/Orange you glad I didn’t say Bob down and let’s have another
Ranger/A ranger her for best entry at the
Oliver/Oliver clothes were off at the
Peter Meter/My peter’ll meet her at the
Dolly Parton/Dolly’s partin’ her thighs at the
Tijuana/Tijuana bring your mama to the
Kissinger/Kissinger’s great but fuckin’ her’s better at the
Betty/Betty’ll have a sore dick at the
Europa/Europa to the bed post for the
Extinct/Extinct like fish at the
Eileen/Eileen her over the sofa at the
Sharon/Sharon share alike at the
Hedda/Hedda lotta sex at the
Mason Dixon/Mason’s Dixon’s a girl at the
Ima/Ima glad we had this
Eisenhower/Eisenhower late for the
Witchy/Witchy one your gonna fuck at the
Kenya/Kenya gimme directions to the
M.R./M.R. some nice-a tits at the
Charlie Pride/Charlie pried her legs apart at the
Banana/Banana na na na na na . . .(and so on)
THE GENDER BENDER SONG
Melody – Gloria Gaynor’s “I will Survive”
Contributed by Black Hole, The Hague HHH
I used to be a man, now I’m sterilized.
Thinking why do I need a woman, always by my side?
So now I spend so much time, simply playin’ with myself,
You know I cum so well alone, I don’t need nobody else.
Oh no not I, I will survive,
I’ve had my HIV tested, and I think I’ll stay alive.
Maybe I gotta a month, or perhaps even two, who gives a shit anyway,
If I didn’t fuck you
So turn your back, grease out your rear.
Stick out your arse now, and I’ll fuck you right here.
It don’t really matter, if you’re a guy or a girl
I am a Gender Bender, I make the meek & humble hurl.
Oh no not I, I will survive, if you like forget the rubbers, and we’ll let this virus thrive.
I really don’t give a shit, cause it can’t affect me, spread your cheeks now bitch, I’ll give you this one for free.
GET IT UP, GET IT IN . . .
Melody – Bonanza Theme
Composed by Rose-Eh & Sex Toy, Toronto HHH
Get it up, get it in, get it out don’t mess my hair do
You’ve got a dick but you should lick, move that tongue around
Hit the spot, make me hot
I will scream out loud
Get it up, get it in, get it out don’t mess my hair do
You’ve got a dick but you should lick, move that tongue around
Suck my toes, insert your hose
Make my juices flow
Get it up, get it in, get it out don’t mess my hair do
You’ve got a dick but you should lick, move that tongue around
When I am done and I have cum
We’ll start another round
Get it up, get it in, get it out don’t mess my hair do
You’ve got a dick but you should lick, move that tongue around
GIVE ME A CLONE
Melody – Home on the Range
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Oh, give me a clone
Of my own flesh and bone
With its Y-chromosome changed to an X
And when it is grown
Then my own little clone
Will be of the opposite sex.
CHORUS:
Clone, clone of my own
With your Y-chromosome changed to an X
And when I’m alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
Oh, give me a clone
Is my sorrowful moan,
A clone that is wholly my own.
And if she’s an X
Of the feminine sex
Oh, what fun we will have when we’re prone.
My heart’s not of stone
As I’ve frequently shown
When alone with my own little X
And after we’ve dined
I’m sure we will find
Better incest than Oedipus Rex.
Why should such sex vex
Or disturb or perplex
Or induce a disparaging tone.
After all, don’t you see
Since we’re both of us me
When we’re having sex, I’m alone.
And after I’m done
She’ll still have her fun
For I’ll clone myself ere I die.
And this time without fail,
They’ll be both of them male,
And they’ll each ravish her by and by.
GOD BLESS MY UNDERPANTS
Melody – God Bless America
Written by Jim “Soar Balls” Blomquist
God bless my underpants,
Brand that I like,
Stand inside them,
And ride them,
Between my buns when I run or I bike.
From the waistband,
To the legholes,
To the fly flap,
Wet with piss,
God bless my underpants,
They look like this.
GONORRHEA
Melody – Vilikins and His Dinah (Sweet Betsy from Pike)
When I left old Phuket, ’twas just yesterday,
I was given these words by the dear old R.A.,
“Be careful young Hashman, I want you to hear,
Don’t go and get pissed up and catch gonorrhea.”
CHORUS:
Piss off with your troubles, I don’t want to know,
I don’t get embarrassed wherever I go,
I like to go whoring and drink lots of beer,
And I never worry about gonorrhea.
I went down to the river and there on the bank,
I saw an old man who was having a wank,
Disgusted, I told him it’ll make him go blind,
He said, “Son, it’s so good I really don’t mind.”
I went round to a friend’s house making some calls,
His old dog was sitting there just licking its balls,
I said, “That looks nice, I’d like to try that,”
Well, okay, but first give old Fido a pat.
Into the Rock Hard I happened to stroll,
To sit and perv on some lovely young moll,
One sat down beside me, ’twas when I awoke,
For the last twenty minutes I’d been ogling a bloke.
While out in the jungle and running with Hash,
I felt like a blow job and I had some spare cash,
I offered a young lady the sum of ten bucks,
She said, “Wait for the G.M., they say that he sucks.”
Well I finally caught it, and I’ll tell you this,
You cannot drink beer, and it hurts you to piss,
I’ve a little red sore that looks just like a chancre,
But I’d rather be poxed up than like you, you wanker.
GREAT BIG WHEEL
Melody – The Great Wheel
Kiwi variation on “The Engineer’s Song,” above
Oh a Cowboy told me before he died
And I’ve got no reason to think he lied
That though he tried for most of his life
He just never could satisfy his wife.
CHORUS:
Round and round went the bloody great wheel
In and out went a rod of steel
I’ll lay you money on a sure-fire bet
That bloody great wheel is turning yet.
So he mounted up a great big wheel
There upon a rod of steel
Two brass chambers a-filled with cream
And the whole bloody thing was run by steam.
Then he rolled it through the bedroom door
And the wheel started up with a great big roar
It rolled to his wife and rolled on top
And it pumped until she hollered stop.
But the bloody great wheel just rolled on through
‘Till the cowboy’s wife was split in two.
Then as if possessed by a monstrous whim
It turned around and mounted him.
It rolled to the gate and it steamed real fast
Mounting all the people just a-strolling past
Covered them all with grease and cream
‘Till it disappeared in a cloud of steam.
So if you ever see a bloody great wheel
There upon a rod of steel,
Run for the prairie or over the hill
Unless you’re looking for a long-time thrill.
GREEN GROW THE RASHES O (Two Versions)
Melody – Green Grow the Rashes O
Version # 1 is the original Robert Burns version; version # 2 is a modern takeoff
VERSION # 1:
CHORUS:
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The lasses they hae wimble bores
The widows they hae gashes, O.
In sober hours I am a priest,
A hero when I’m tipsy-O;
But I’m a king and ev’ry thing
When wi’ a wanton gypsie, O.
‘Twas laye yestreen I met wi’ ane,
An’ wow, but she was gentle, O
Ae han’ she put roun’ my cravat
The tither to my pintle, O.
I dought na speak — yet was na fley’d
My heart play’d duntie, duntie, O
And ceremony laid aside
I fairly fun’ her cuntie, O.
VERSION # 2:
Green grow the rashes O,
Green grow the rashes O,
The sweetest bed I ever had,
Was the bellies of the lassies O.
We’re all full from eating it,
We’re all dry from drinking it,
The parson kissed the fiddler’s wife,
And couldn’t preach for thinking of it.
There’s a pious lass in town
Godly Lizzy Lundy O,
She mounts the peak throughout the week,
But fingers it on Sunday O.
Lizzie is of large dimension,
There is not a doubt of it,
The soccer team went in last night,
And none has yet come out of it.
Jockie’s wife she thought she’d shave it,
Threw him in a pretty passion,
Shouting he’d not have a wife,
Whose private parts were out of fashion.
HAND SOLO SONG
Melody – My Favorite Things
By Wings, performed at Mexican Mardigras Hash, April 2000
Handcuffs on bedposts and latex with jelly,
Whip marks on backsides and cum stains on bellies,
Nasty infections that ooze from my thing,
These are the memories from my last fling.
Ball grabbing sessions with shower falsettos
Blindfolds and butt plugs and high heeled stilettos
Sweaty transvestites performing from swings
These are the memories from my last fling.
Pink pocket pussies and dildos with mayonnaise
Hand jobs with duct tape and nipple clamp entrees
Edible panties on guys with cock rings
These are the memories of my last fling.
When the crabs bite, when my pee stings,
When I’m feeling sore,
I simply remember Hand Solo’s around,
And then I scream out for more.
HARVEST OF LOVE
Melody – Itself
I rise at six and I feed the chicks,
And I’m feeling lonesome and blue,
And when I milk the cow it seems somehow,
My thoughts keep straying to you,
And as the horse and I plow the fields nearby,
Your mem’ry I can’t erase,
‘Cause when I walk at the rear of the horse, my dear,
I seem to see your face.
CHORUS:
I’m gonna sow the seeds of deep devotion,
Fertilize it with emotion,
Water it with warm desire,
And then I’ll reap the harvest of love.
Side by side we’ll take a ride
In my horse and buggy one day,
Down lover’s lane I’ll turn the reins,
And my horse will run out of hay,
And I will kiss those lips, those tempting lips,
The only one that can thrill me,
And we will frolic at night in the pale moonlight,
If the wife ever finds out she’ll kill me.
HELLO PENIS
Melody – Sound of Silence
Hello penis my old friend,
I’ve come to play with you again,
When those wet dreams come a-creeping,
I spurt my seeds while I am sleeping,
And with your helmet firmly planted in my hand,
It will expand,
While jerking off in silence.
In horny dreams I get a bone,
I beat off on cobble stones,
Beneath the halo of a street lamp,
I see a whore who’s getting very damp,
For five hundred baht in a flash she’s on her back,
She spreads her crack,
And twitches her twat in silence.
Those who see and do not know,
How to make my penis grow,
I whipped you out so she might eat you,
I stuffed you up into her pussy spew,
And then my sperm, like silent raindrops fell,
And turned to gel,
While jerking off in silence.
And the ants came out and played,
In the fucking mess I’d made,
But in heeding daddy’s warning,
That mum would find it in the morning,
So I rolled out of bed and wiped it up with my shirt,
God, what a squirt!
Jerking off in silence.
HERPES FAMILY
Melody – Addams Family Theme
They’re goofy and they’re itchy,
They make your girlfriend bitchy,
They hide out in her snitchy,
The Herpes Family!
CHORUS:
Da da da da (snap fingers twice),
Da da da da (snap fingers twice)
Da da da da, Da da da da, Da da da da
You can hardly see ’em,
But when you start a-pee’n,
They really get ya screamin’,
The Herpes Family!
HERPES SONG
Melody – She Loves You (Beatles)
I think I’ve got a dose,
And it’s not the dripping kind,
It’s the one that hurts the most,
And it makes you fucking blind.
CHORUS:
I think it’s herpes and you know that can be bad,
Yeah that herpes, it can make you fuckin mad oooh,
I hate it yeah, yeah, yeah,
I hate it yeah, yeah, yeah,
With a dose like that it’s very, very sad.
I think I’ve got a dose,
And I got it yesterday,
I came so very close,
To giving it to the maid.
I know there’s something wrong,
‘Cause there’s blisters on my knob,
And the skin’s peeling off my dong,
And erections make it throb.
I’m going to see the quack,
‘Cause I can’t stand the pain,
I stuffed it up her crack,
But I won’t do that again.
When the doctor took his knife,
I went deeply into sho-o-ck,
What will I tell my wife,
He’s going to cut it off.
HOT VAGINA
Melody – The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You
Note – can also be sung to The Yellow Rose of Texas
Hot vagina for your breakfast,
Hot vagina for your lunch,
Hot vagina for your dinner,
Just munch, munch, munch, munch, munch.
It’s so speedy and nutritious,
Bite-size and ready to eat,
So take a tip, go eat your mom;
Hot vagina can’t be beat.
HOT VAGINA REDEUX
Melody – Unknown
Alternate version by S&M&M&M Man and Lorena
Hot vagina in the morning,
Hot vagina all the time,
Just take out your pecker,
And insert it into the foaming brine,
Shove it in and blow your load,
Get ready for a tasty treat,
Do a 69 and start to dine,
Hot vagina can’t be beat
Hot vagina in the morning,
Hot vagina all day long,
What a glorious feeling,
To have it warning up your schlong,
Don’t be shy, just stick it in,
Get ready for a tasty treat,
Hot vagina for men and women too,
Hot vagina can’t be beat
Hot vagina for a noon-time snack,
Hot vagina for a feast,
Hot vagina for a midnight snack,
Oh how we all love that yeast.
You don’t need to be a man to have
Such fun eating trim,
Whether you’re a dyke or man,
Just go on and dive right in!
HOW ASHAMED I WAS
Melody – Itself
I met her on the Hash, how ashamed I was,
I met her on the Hash, how ashamed I was,
I met her on the Hash – I thought I’d try a bash,
Oh gor blimey how ashamed I was!
OTHER VERSES:
I touched her on the knee – she said “You’re fairly free.”
I touched her on the thigh – she said “You’re fairly high.”
I touched her on the spot – she said “I’d rather not.”
When I put it in – she said “You’re rather thin.”
Then when I did come – she said “You’re up my bum.”
So then I took it out – she said “No need to pout.”
So I tried to put it back – but my prick had gone quite slack.
Then she took me in her hand – and she made my roger stand.
Then she climbed up on the top – I tried to make her stop.
She rode me like a horse – I came again, of course.
But still she wanted more – she must have been a whore.
And then my tool grew thinner – I couldn’t keep it in her.
Then she called me a nasty name – “You fucking Hashers are all the same.”
HOW TO HANDLE A DATE (DUET)
Melody – Que Sera, Sera
Written by Little Shit & friends, Austin HHH
Harrier:
Take her hand, her hand, her hand,
It’s time to stand, to stand,
You’re the king of the land,
So take her hand.
Harriette:
He’s squeezing my hand, my hand, my hand,
I wish he’d take a stand, a stand,
This wimp of the land,
Quit squeezing my hand.
Harrier:
Fondle her breast, her breast, her breast,
You know they’re the best, the best,
They’ve passed all the tests,
So fondle her breasts.
Harriette:
He’s fondling my breast, my breast, my breast,
I know they’re the best, the best,
They can pass any test,
So fondle my breast.
Harrier:
Finger her twat, her twat, her twat,
Now you’ve hit the spot, the spot,
It gets her real hot,
When you finger her twat.
Harriette:
He’s poking my twat, my twat, my twat,
I bet he thinks he’s hit the spot, the spot,
That makes me real hot,
Oh, quit poking my twat.
Harrier:
So lay that pipe, that pipe, that pipe,
We know she’s the type, the type,
She thinks she’s real tight,
So lay that pipe.
Harriette:
But what a small cock, small cock, small cock,
He thinks it’s a lot, a lot,
Is that all he’s got?
Oh, what a small cock.
Harrier:
Roll over and sleep, and sleep, and sleep,
I gave her the meat, the meat,
It wasn’t too deep,
But I got it real cheap.
Harriette:
Wasn’t it quick, so quick, so quick,
Just like a prick, a prick,
To give me a stick,
That’s just too quick.
I DON’T WANT TO JOIN THE ARMY
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/don-t-want-to-join-the-af/
I don’t want to join the Army,
I don’t want to go to war,
I’d rather hang around Picadilly Underground,
Living off the earnings of a high born lady.
I don’t want a bullet up me arsehole,
Don’t want me buttocks shot away,
I want to stay in England,
Jolly, jolly England,
And fornicate me bloomin’ life away, gor blimey . . .
Monday I touched her on the ankle,
Tuesday I touched her on the knee,
On Wednesday, I confess, I lifted up her dress,
Thursday I saw you-know-what,
Friday I put me hand upon it,
Saturday she gave me balls a tweak (Tweak! Tweak!)
And Sunday after supper, I put the old boy up ‘er,
And now she earns me forty bob a week, gor blimey.
I don’t want to join the Navy,
I don’t want to go to sea,
I just want to go down to old Soho,
Tickling all the girlies in the umtiddly-um-pum,
I don’t want a bayonet up me arsehole,
I don’t want me knackers shot away,
I’d rather live in England,
Merry, merry England,
And fornicate me fuckin’ life away.
Call out the Regimental Army,
Call out the Navy and Marines,
Call out me mother,
Me sister and me brother,
But for God’s sake,
Don’t call me, gor blimey.
I DON’T WANT TO JOIN THE CONVENT
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/don-t-want-to-join-the-af/
Composed by hashers unknown, likely for InterHash ’92 in Phuket, Thailand
I don’t want to join the convent,
Purity is really quite a bore,
I’d rather hang around my Phuket playing ground,
Living off the earnings of an off-shore expat,
I don’t want to waste my life a virgin,
I don’t want to count my rosary,
I’d rather stay in Phuket, lovely, lovely Phuket,
And fornicate my fuckin’ life away, gor blimey.
Monday I got myself deflowered,
Tuesday I moved into his house,
On Wednesday I declared, you Hashers aren’t so bad,
Thursday a climax! Oh, gor blimey,
Friday he told me he was leaving,
Saturday he flew to Singapore,
And Sunday starts the party,
To celebrate his parting,
And now I’ve got eight weeks to fuck around, gor blimey.
I don’t want to raise a family,
I’m not cut out for nine to five,
I’d rather hang around my Phuket playing ground,
Living off the earnings of an off-shore expat,
I don’t care if I don’t go to heaven,
I don’t want to go there all alone,
I’d rather stay in Phuket, lovely, lovely Phuket,
And fornicate my fuckin’ life away, gor blimey.
I LIKE COCK
Melody – Three Blind Mice
I like cock,
I like cock,
See how they rise,
See how they rise,
They fit so nicely and feel so grand,
They come in all sizes, all shapes and brands,
There’s nothing finer than making them stand,
‘Cause I like cock,
I like cock.
I LIKE CUNT
Melody – Three Blind Mice
I like cunt,
I like cunt,
Ain’t it cute,
Ain’t it cute?
Up against railings I’ve often stood,
Fucking young ladies and doing them good,
It’s so much better than pulling your pud,
‘Cause I like cunt,
I like cunt.
I LOVE MY WIFE
Melody – Itself
I love my wife, yes I do, yes I do,
I love her truly,
I love the hole that she pisses through,
I love her lily white tits and her ruby red lips,
And her little brown asshole,
I’d eat her shit, gobble-gobble, chomp-chomp,
With a rusty spoon (with a rusty spoon).
I PUT MY HAND
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home
I put my hand upon her toe, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her toe, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her toe,
She said, “Hey Hasher, you’re way too low,
Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her knee, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her knee, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her knee,
She said, “Hey Hasher, you’re teasin’ me,
Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her tit, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her tit, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her tit,
She said, “Hey Hasher, you’re squeezin’ it,
Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her twat, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her twat, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my hand upon her twat,
She said, “Hey Hasher, you’ve hit the spot,
Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now she lies in a wooden box, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now she lies in a wooden box, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now she lies in a wooden box,
From sucking too many Hasher’s cocks,
Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about!
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I PUT MY LIPS
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home
(Authorship claimed by Austin HHH Harriettes)
I put my lips upon his toe, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his toe, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his toe,
He said, “Hey Harriet, you’re way too low,
Suck in, suck out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his knee, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his knee, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his knee,
He said, “Hey Harriet, you’re teasin’ me,
Suck in, suck out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his tit, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his tit, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his tit,
He said, “Hey Harriet, I’ve just been bit,
Suck in, suck out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his prick, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his prick, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
I put my lips upon his prick,
He said, “Hey Harriet, you’re really sick,
Suck in, suck out, quit fuckin’ about!”
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now he lies in a wooden box, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now he lies in a wooden box, Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
Now he lies in a wooden box,
From a severe case of small cox,
Suck in, suck out, quit fuckin’ about!
Ya Ho! Ya Ho! Ya Ho!
IF I WERE THE MARRYING KIND
Melody – ???
If I were the marrying kind,
Which thank the Lord I’m not sir,
The kind of man that I would wed,
Would be a rugby full-back.
And he’d find touch, and I’d find touch,
We’d both find touch together,
We’d be all right in the middle of the night,
Finding touch together.
If I were the marrying kind,
Which thank the Lord I’m not sir,
The kind of man that I would wed,
Would be a rugby wing three-quarter.
And he’d go hard, and I’d go hard,
We’d both go hard together,
We’d be all right in the middle of the night,
Going hard together.
OTHER VERSES:
Centre three-quarter – pass it out.
Rugby fly-half – whip it out.
Rugby scrum-half – put it in.
Rugby hooker – strike hard.
Big pop-forward – bind tight.
Rugby referee – blow hard.
Spectator – come again.
I’LL NEVER PISS AGAIN
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
Written by Barney & Derelict, Classic City HHH
My dick has felt the burning of the coming of the clap,
I’ve been clean all these years and now I’ve got a real bum rap,
That bitch said she was clean but she really was a liar,
‘Cause now my dick’s on fire.
CHORUS:
Lordy, Lordy I’m on fire,
Lordy, Lordy I’m on fire,Lordy, Lordy I’m on fire,
And I’ll never piss again.
I saw her coming at me from across the Georgia bar,
Her ass was swinging wildly and her tits were sagging far,
I propped her on a barstool and I bought that bitch a drink,
Then I smelled that telltale stink.
Swedish Bees, Kamikazes, Stolies, and some brew,
My dick was getting hard, man, the big old Wally grew,
She reached into my pants and she pulled that monster out,
Then John Cleveland began to shout.
Well I should have listened to him ’cause he’d been with her before,
That must have been where he got that bloody festered sore,
I should have listened to him when he said she was a whore,
But you knows “Bo needs more.”
So I took her on a hash run and that bitch ran fast and hot,
You could almost see the nasty stuff a-dripping out her slot,
And at the On-In, she told me she really wanted to fuck,
But I should have just let her suck.
Now I’m in the doctor’s office sitting in the chair,
Nothing like a red hot poker way down deep in there,
The doctor pushed too far and my scrotum began to tear,
God, this really SUCKS.
IN THE MOOD
Melody – In the Mood
Contributed by Llewtrah
She’s got nipples on her tits just big as your thumb,
She’s got somethin’ tween her legs to make a dead man cum,
She’s got shoo fly pie, apple pandowdy.
CHORUS:
In the mood, hard on crazy rhythm,
In the mood, hard on crazy rhythm,
In the mood, hard on crazy rhythm,
Up tight, and out of sight, and in the mood.
Makes your balls rise up and makes your pecker say “Howdy!”
You can huff and you can puff and you can strut your stuff,
But you can’t eat enough of her wonderful muff!
Oh, the nipples on her tits are as big as my thumb,
The wiggle of her arse will make a dead man cum,
She’s a mean motherfucker and a great cocksucker.
ISN’T IT AWFULLY NICE TO HAVE A PENIS? (THE PENIS SONG)
Melody – The Penis Song, from Monty Python (copyrighted material)
Isn’t it awfully nice to have a penis,
Isn’t it awfully nice to have a dong?
It’s swell to have a stiffy,
It’s divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger,
To the world’s biggest prick.
So three cheers for your Willie or John Thomas,
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife’s best friend,
Your Percy or your cock.
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock,
But don’t take it out in public,
Or they’ll stick you in the dock,
And you won’t come back.
ISN’T IT GREAT TO HAVE A CLITORIS?
Melody – The Penis Song
Parody of “The Penis Song,” above, written by the Harriettes of the Austin HHH
Isn’t it great to have a clitoris,
Isn’t it great to have a box?
It’s wonderful to own a vagina,
It’s grand to own a bush,
From the tiniest little hole,
To the world’s largest twat.
So three licks for your muff or furburger,
Hurray for your Venus mound,
Your piece of ass, your husband’s favorite toy,
Your pussy or your cunt.
You can keep it in edible undies,
You can put on crotchless panties,
But don’t take it out in public,
Unless you charge a lot,
Or you won’t get very rich.
I’VE GOT A START ON A TWELVE-INCH HARD-ON
Melody – I’m Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover
I’ve got a start on a twelve-inch hard-on
That I’ve had all afternoon.
Went to the doctor, he told me to cough,
I wish that he would have whacked it right off!
Oh come to me, you Venus, massage my penis,
And shrivel it like a prune,
‘Cause I’ve got a start on a twelve-inch hard-on
I’ll probably have till June, till June.
I’ll probably have till June.
JAMAICA FAREWELL
Melody – Jamaica Farewell
If you walk this way there are sailors gay
And the sun shines gaily when they’re jerking off,
Won’t you take a trip on my sailing ship
And when you reach Jamaica then the buggers stop.
CHORUS:
But I’m sad to say, I’m on my way
Won’t be back for many a day
My heart is down, My head is turning around
I had to leave my poor old knob in Kingston Town
Now I’ve got the syph and my cock is stiff
It isn’t an erection it is rigor mortis,
I sunk my shaft into a local arse,
And now it stings like nettles when I try to piss.
It was gettin’ worse so I saw the nurse,
She cried out in dismay and went white wid shock,
“If you’d come before, then I done more –
Now I’m going to have to amputate your cock”
THE KEYHOLE SONG
Melody – The Keyhole in the Door
The party ended early,
’twas only half past nine,
And by some stroke of bloody good luck,
Her room was next to mine.
And so like Christopher Columbus,
I started to explore,
I took up my position,
At the keyhole in the door.
Oh the keyhole, keyhole, keyhole,
The keyhole in the door.
I took up my position
At the keyhole in the door.
She sat down by the fireside,
Her lily white tits to warm,
With only a nylon chemise on,
To hide her naked form.
If only she would take it off,
What man could ask for more?
By God, I saw her take it off,
Through the keyhole in the door.
Oh the keyhole, keyhole, keyhole,
The keyhole in the door.
By God, I saw her take if off,
Through the keyhole in the door.
With soft and trembling fingers,
I opened up the door,
With soft and trembling footsteps,
I crossed the bedroom floor.
And so that no other man could,
See what I’d seen before,
I stuffed that nylon chemise up,
The keyhole in the door.
Oh the keyhole, keyhole, keyhole,
The keyhole in the door.
I stuffed that nylon chemise up,
The keyhole in the door.
That night I slept in rapture,
And something else beside,
Upon her glorious bosom,
Had many a glorious ride.
That morning when I woke up,
My prick was mighty sore,
I felt as if I’d stuffed it up,
The keyhole in the door.
Hey!
LA COCK
Melody – La Cucaracha
Composed and sung by the PMS Sisters (Steep ‘n’ Deep, Mammaries, and Harlot) at San Francisco’s Gay to Flakers Hash, May ’94
La cock’ll choke you, la cock’ll choke you,
Eef you put it down my throat,
La cock’ll choke you, la cock’ll choke you,
Get off my face you big fat bloat.
La cock’ll choke you, la cock’ll choke you,
Eet’s too beeg for my small mouth,
La cock’ll choke you, la cock’ll choke you,
I don’ go north, I just go south.
La cock’ll choke you, eet make me gag, too,
It can really make me squirm,
La cock’ll choke you, la cock’ll choke you,
I’d rather suck tequila worm.
LET ME BALL YOU SWEETHEART
Melody – Let Me Call You Sweetheart
Let me ball you sweetheart; I’m in bed with you,
Let me hear you whisper that it’s time to screw.
Make your body wiggle in the same old way,
And I’ll be back to see you on my next pay day.
Let me call you sweetheart; I’m in bed with you,
Let me pinch your boobies till they’re black and blue.
Let me stroke your vulva till it’s filled with goo,
Let’s play hide the weenie up your old wazoo.
LET’S SCREW
Melody – White Rabbit’s Song from Alice in Wonderland (I’m late, I’m late, etc)
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
Let’s screw, let’s screw, I want a piece of you.
No time to say hello, goodbye, let’s screw, let’s screw, let’s screw.
And, bring some brew, at least a case or two,
I’ll need lots of sex and beer to spend my time with you.
I’m horny as a three-balled tom, I’ve get to get some sex.
Right now I’d screw most anything, I’d even screw your ex.
So won’t you come with me, as long as it’s for free.
No need to say hello, goodbye, let’s screw, let’s screw, let’s screw.
LITTLE PENIS
Melody – I’m a Little Teapot
By John “Dr Dirty” Valby (copyrighted material)
I’m a little penis short and stout
I’m a little handle and here is my spout
When I get a hard-on I will shout
Contract little vulva and let the semen out!
I’m a little pussy moist and split
Here is my labia and here is my clit
When I get all horny I will shout
Get me up the ass and eat me out!
I’m a little pubic hair soft and curly
I get sticky when they shoot too early
When you rub against me I will shout
Ouch you fuckin’ bastard you jut pulled me out!
LONG AND THIN
Melody – Pop Goes the Weasel
Contributed by Zippy
Long and thin goes too far in,
And doesn’t pleases the ladies;
Short and thick will do the trick,
And bring out proper babies.
Oh our Mary tried it once,
Once is once too many;
Wasn’t she a proper dunce?
Did it for a penny.
LOTSA FUCKING
Melody – Little Boxes
Lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking, lotsa shafting, lotsa screwing, shagging,
Lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking, all the same,
There’s a blonde one, and a brown one, and brunette, and a redhead one,
But they all get lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking all the same.
And the people I’ve been fucking, they all go to the university,
Where they all get lots more fucking, lots more fucking all the same,
I’ve had doctors, I’ve had lawyers, lawyers and business executives,
And they all get lotsa fucking, and I fucked them all the same.
And the girls grow into housewives, and I fuck them till they’re sore and dry,
And they all have pretty children, and the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp, and then to the university,
Where they all get lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking all the same.
And the boys go into business, pimps, rent boys, male prostitutes,
So they all get lots of fucking, even if they’re fucking gay,
There’s a blonde one, and a brown one, and brunette, and a redhead one,
But they all get lotsa fucking, lotsa fucking all the same.
MAN TRAP
Melody – Ring of Fire
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Love is a burning thing,
Met a girl who could make me sing,
A snatch was never wider,
I fell into her huge vagina.
I fell into her steamy wet vagina,
Went down, down, down, almost the whole way to China.
And it turns, squirms, churns,
That huge vagina, that huge vagina.
The taste, it was so sweet,
Then I slid in my meat,
Just before I was done,
She asked, “Are you in yet hon?”
I fell into her steamy wet vagina,
Went down, down, down, almost the whole way to China.
And it turns, squirms, churns,
That huge vagina, that huge vagina.
(Let it squirm!)
I fell into her steamy wet vagina,
Went down, down, down, but she wouldn’t let me ride her,
And it turns, squirms, churns,
That huge vagina, that huge vagina.
I tasted her and then,
I had to try again,
She said, with all her charm,
“Don’t use your cock again, try your arm.”
I fell into her steamy wet vagina,
With arms and legs both, I couldn’t satisfy her.
And it turns, squirms, churns,
That huge vagina, that huge vagina.
MARRIAGE A LA MODE
Melody – Itself
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Hey jig-a-jig, fuck a little pig,
Follow the band,
Follow the band with my gland in your hand,
Hey jig-a-jig, fuck a little pig,
Follow the band,
Follow the band all the way.
My husband’s (wife/boyfriend/girlfriend) a butcher, a butcher, a butcher,
A very fine butcher is he.
All day he stuffs sausage, stuffs sausage, stuffs sausage,
At night he comes home and stuffs me.
OTHER VERSES:
Jockey/rides thoroughbreds/rides me
Carpenter/whacks nails/whacks me
Sergeant/chews ass/chews me
Airline pilot/bores holes/bores me
Private/eats shit/eats me
Postman/licks stamps/licks me
Bus Driver/drives buses/drives me
Lion Tamer/tames lions/tames me
Plumber/reams pipes/reams me
Pervert/molests children/molests me
Pianist/tickles ivory/tickles me
Psychoanalyst/analyzes patients/anal-izes me
Pimp/beats whores/beats me
Stool Pigeon/fingers crooks/fingers me
Policeman/cuffs crooks/cuffs me
Ropemaker/ties knots/ties me
Baker/kneads dough/needs me
Asthmatic/sucks air/sucks me
Student/fucks off/fucks me
Lawyer/screws clients/screws me
Chimney Sweep/pokes smokestacks/pokes me
Guitarist/plays licks/licks me
Hasher/runs trail/snores
MASTURBATA
Melody – The Macarena
Contributed by J.R.
Sitting in my house, and I know that I’m alona,
Feeling kinda horny, got a jingle in my bona.
Go and grab a Penthouse it’s the one with Sharon Stona.
Hey Masturbata!
I go a little faster and its feeling kind of nicea,
Once ain’t enough so I have to do it twicea.
If you wanna spank the monkey I can give you good advicea.
Hey Masturbata!
I use some baby oil or a little Vaselina,
Laying down a towel so I keep my carpet cleana.
Never shake my hand cause you don’t know where its beena
Hey Masturbata!
I do it in the car when I’m driving down the streeta,
One hand on the wheel and the others on my meata.
I can’t get out the car cause I’m sticking to the seata.
Hey Masturbata!
Since I was a kid I have been a Masturbata,
Choke the chicken, hum the knob, squeezing the tomata.
I’ve looked at Ms. November now I’m gonna decorate her.
Hey Masturbata!
Buffing the banana, Mr. Lizard shaking bacona,
Pounding on the flounder and its mayonnaise I’m makinga.
Spank the frank, wax the carrot, god my hand is achinga.
Hey Masturbata!
MASTURBATION (FORNICATION)
Melody – Alouette
By Danny Ross Taylor, Austin HHH
CHORUS:
Masturbation, I love masturbation,
Masturbation, I love to masturbate.
Leader: How I like to choke my chicken,
Pack: Yes, he likes to choke his chicken,
Leader: Choke my chicken,
Pack: Choke his chicken,
Leader: Masturbate,
Pack: Masturbate,
Chorus
Leader is now the next person on the right – lead goes around the circle with each new verse, and all old verses should be repeated, as in AAHLAWETA:
Leader: How I like to spank my monkey,
Pack: How he likes to spank his monkey,
Leader: Spank my monkey,
Pack: Spank his monkey,
Leader: Choke my chicken,
Pack: Choke his chicken,
Leader: Masturbate,
Pack: Masturbate,
OTHER VERSES:
Lope my mule
Rub my nub
Whip my lizard
Swat my twat
Tease the beaver
Flog my log
Stroke my snatch
Tap my gap
Beat my meat
Pull my pony
Yank my chain
Use three fingers
Moan and jerk
etc . . .
This goes on until no one can think of new masturbation verses, at which point the song becomes “Fornication”:
CHORUS:
Fornication, I love fornication,
Fornication, I love to fornicate.
Leader: How I like to be on top,
Pack: Yes, she likes to be on top
Leader: Be on top,
Pack: Be on top,
Leader: Fornicate,
Pack: Fornicate,
OTHER VERSES:
Do it standing up
Hide the salami
Drive it deep
Bark like a dog
Bump and grind
Pump and hump
Grind her mound
Give jungle love
Do it in the dirt
etc . . .
MASTURBATION SONG
Melody – Funiculi, Funicula
(Second version from Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward)
Last night I stayed up late and masturbated,
It felt so good, I knew it would.
Last night I stayed up late to masturbate,
It felt so nice, I did it twice.
You should have seen me on the short strokes,
It felt so grand, I used my hand,
And you should have seen me on the long strokes,
It felt so neat, I used my feet.
Shake it, break it, beat it on the floor,
Smash it, bash it, thrust it through the door,
Some people seem to think that fornication’s grand,
But for all-around enjoyment, I prefer to use my hand!
______
Next door, she laid and masturbated,
It did her good, she knew it would.
All night, the bed springs they vibrated,
She thinks it’s canny, to rub her fanny.
You should have seen her on the short strokes,
It felt so grand, she used her hand.
You should have seen her on the long strokes,
Around and round, and up and down.
Eased it, teased it, slid along the floor,
Rubbed it, scrubbed it, tickled it to the core.
Some people say that being fucked is very grand,
But for personal enjoyment, she would rather use her hand.
MY LITTLE PINK PANTIES
Melody – When You Wore a Tulip (sometimes known as “My Little Red Rose”)
I wore my panties,
My little pink panties,
And he wore his G.I. shorts.
He began to caress me,
And then he undressed me,
What a thrill we had in store.
He played with my titties,
My little pink titties,
And down where the short hairs grow.
His kisses grew sweeter,
He pulled out his peter,
And whitewashed my little red rose.
NO BALLS AT ALL
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
Come all you young drunkards give ear to my tale,
I’ll tell you a story that will make you turn pale,
It’s about a young lady so pretty and small,
Who married a man who had no balls at all.
No balls at all, no balls at all,
She felt for his balls, he had no balls at all.
“Oh mother, oh mother, oh pity my luck,
I’ve married a man who’s unable to fuck,
His toolbag is empty, his screwdriver’s small,
The impotent wretch has got no balls at all.”
No balls at all, no balls at all,
The impotent wretch has got no balls at all.
“My daughter, my daughter, don’t be so sad,
I had the same problem with your dear old dad,
But there’s many a man who’ll give ear to the call,
Of the wife of a man who has no balls at all.”
No balls at all, no balls at all,
To the wife of a man who has no balls at all.
The pretty young girl took her mother’s advice,
And she thought the whole thing was exceedingly nice,
An eighteen pound baby was born in the fall,
But the poor little bastard had no balls at all.
No balls at all, no balls at all,
The poor little bastard had no balls at all.
NUDE
Melody – Men of Harlech
By W.J.Bethancourt III and Ed Hirt
Copyright © 1982 W.J.Bethancourt III and Ed Hirt
Contributed by Zippy
What the use of wearing panties
Whalebone corsets of your Auntie’s
Boxer shorts and other scanties
Best of all is nude
There’s such fun in going bra-less
Now that it’s no longer lawless
‘Specially if your figure’s flawless
Best of all is nude
Nude is what you’re born in
Shirts are never torn in
Underwear and lacy flimsies, garter belts and other whimsies
Yards of itchy cloth to put your form in
Ducks all do it, maidens rue it
Even ancient Picts in Britain blue it
Going naked’s how to do it
Best of all is nude!
If your garters aren’t elastic
Tie them up in knots fantastic
(Panty hose is something drastic!)
Best of all is nude!
If you’re tired of wearing clotheses
Shed your garment ‘mongst the roses
Never mind the old bluenoses
Best of all is nude!
Nude is best for ducking!
Worst for horses bucking!
Moonlit nights will see such sights that are very best for fooling round
…..and elbows!
Nudity is grand to see
A well-known antidote to virginity
Take your clothes off and you’ll see:
Best of all is nude!
ONE-EYED TROUSER SNAKE
Melody – Itself
Oh, I got a little creature,
I suppose you’d call him a pet,
And if there’s something wrong with him,
I don’t have to see the vet.
He goes everywhere that I go,
Whether sleeping or awake,
God help me if I ever lose,
Me one-eyed trouser snake.
CHORUS:
Oh me one-eyed trouser snake,
Oh me one-eyed trouser snake,
God help me if I ever lose,
Me one-eyed trouser snake.
One day I got reading in an old sky pilot’s book,
About two starkers innocents who made the world go crook,
They reckoned it was a serpent that made Eve the apple take,
Crikey, ’twas no flaming serpent, ’twas Adam’s one-eyed trouser snake.
I met this arty sheila who I’d never met before,
And something kind of told me she banged like a dunny door,
I said, “Come up and see my etching,” she said, “I hope it’s not a fake,”
She wasn’t disappointed with me one-eyed trouser snake.
So come all you little sheilas and listen to me song,
The moral of the trouser snake is as short as it is long,
Beware of imitation, don’t lock your bedroom door,
When me pajama python bites you, you’ll be screaming out for more.
ONE TWAT
Melody – Guantanamera
Composed and sung by the PMS Sisters (Steep ‘n’ Deep, Mammaries, and Harlot) at San Francisco’s Gay to Flakers Hash, May ’94
One twat’ll nail ya, we tell ya one twat’ll nail ya,
The other twats’ll jail ya,
Again we have to explain ya,
We don’ wan’ your old nachos,
Just give us cock, muchas gracias,
We wan’ your hot jalapeno,
Don’ wan’ your thoughts from the beano,
Just wan’ your hot jalapeno.
One twat’ll nail ya, we tell ya one twat’ll nail ya,
The other twats’ll jail ya,
(jacking-off motions):
We tell ya one twat won’ fail ya,
One twat won’ fail ya,
One twat won’ fail ya.
ORAL SEX
Melody – Oklahoma!
Lyrics by “A Lot of Fun Back There,” Kansas City & Heartland HHH
O…….ral sex is every Hasher’s dream come true!
With my lips so sweet
Upon his meat
In a moment he’ll begin to spew!
O…….ral sex, every night my Honey-Lamb and I
Practice 69
And it’s so fine
That it brings a tear to my eye.
Oral sex with a Hasher is grand
‘Cause a tongue is more fun than a hand!
So when I say……
Yippee Yippee Oh I A!
That means I’m having
Oral Sex with a Hasher
Oral sex: (spell out) O-R-A-L-S-E-X
Oral sex is…….OK!
PENIS BREATH
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Dirty Dingus
Penis breath, a lover’s dread,
Is what you get when you give head.
Unpleasant as it tends to be,
Be grateful that he doesn’t pee.
It’s times like this, you wonder why,
You bothered reaching for his fly.
But it’s too late, can’t be a tease,
Accept the facts, get on your knees,
You know you’ve got a job to do,
So open wide and shove it through,
Lick the tip then take it all,
Don’t drag your teeth or he might bawl.
Slide up and down, use your tongue,
And feel the pre-come start to run.
So when the fuck’s he gonna come?
Just when you can’t take anymore,
You hear your lover’s mighty roar.
And when he hits that real high note,
You feel it oozing down your throat.
Salty, fishy, sticky, yucky stuff,
Okay, already that’s enough.
Let’s switch you say, before you gag,
And what’s your revenge, you’re on the rag.
THE PENIS SONG
Melody – I’m Too Sexy (from the movie “The Sweetest Thing”)
Contributed by Burnt Sox, Mt. Vernon HHH
CHORUS: You’re too big to fit in here Too big to fit in here Too big to fit in here What a lovely ride Your penis is a thrill Your penis is a Cadillac A giant Coupe de Ville Your penis packs a wallop Your penis brings a load And when it makes a delivery It needs its own zip code Nine – double zero – penis Your penis is so strong Your penis is so smooth Your penis has got a rhythm Your penis makes me groove Your penis is a dream The biggest one I’ve seen It’s oozy and it’s green (spoken) Ewww (spoken) Sorry Your penis is so big Your penis is so thick Your penis is so pretty You’ve got a handsome dick Your penis is so hard Your penis is so large My body is a movie And your penis is the star ”Staring your penis”
THE PORTIONS OF A WOMAN
Melody – ???
Now the portions of a woman
That appeal to a man’s depravity,
Are fasioned with the most exquisite care.
And that what may seem to you
To be a simple little cavity,
Is really an elaborate affair.
Now, we doctors who have taken time
To study these phenomena,
In numbers of experimental dames,
Have made a little list
Of all these feminine abdomena,
And given them their Latin names.
There’s the vulva, the vagina,
And the jolly perineum.
And the hymen which is sometimes found in brides,
And lots of other gadgets.
You would love if you could see ’em,
There’s the clitoris, and Christ knows what else besides.
Now it makes us rather tired,
When you idle laymen chatter,
About the things to which we’ve just referred.
And to hear you give a name
To such a complicated matter,
With such a short and unattractive word.
PREGNANCY (AND VARIATIONS)
Melody – Yesterday (Beatles)
Some verses by Flying Booger
Flatulence verses by S&M&M&M&M Man
Pregnancy,
There’s a shotgun hanging over me,
Why has this bulge got to be,
I should have used one, silly me.
CHORUS:
Why I had to come,
I don’t know, she wouldn’t blow,
I did something wrong,
Now I long for birth control, ol, ol, ol . . .
Birth control,
It’s the only way to save my soul,
Since I put it in my girlfriend’s hole,
Now I believe in birth control.
______
Syphilis,
Feels like razors every time I piss,
Who the hell’s to blame for this,
It’s agony, this syphilis.
CHORUS:
How I got that sore,
I didn’t know, she was a whore.
I was indiscreet,
Now I’ve got infected meat, eat, eat, eat . . .
Syphilis,
Chancre sores and spots upon my skin,
I never should have stuck it in,
Now I will die of syphilis.
______
Leprosy,
Bits and pieces falling off of me,
I’m not half the man I used to be,
Since I acquired leprosy.
CHORUS:
Why things fall away,
I don’t know, no one will say.
When I solve hash trail,
It’s my parts that point the way, ay, ay, ay . . .
Leprosy,
Stumps for toes and fingers, woe is me,
There goes my dick, how will I pee?
Quite messily, with leprosy.
______
Flatulance.
Smelly gassers, it really makes them wince,
It is ruining my existence,
I can not be rid of this flatulance.
Why the smell it grows
From my hole, it’s gonna blow,
There’s a stain in my pants,
Now I long for Bea- no, o, o, o
Bea – no.
It’s the only way to cleasne my hole,
Since I ate those nachos and tacos,
Now I believe in Bea – no.
PUBIC HAIRS!
Melody – Baby Face
Wispy down or normal bush or Brillo Pad,
I’m raving ’bout my baby’s little thatch,
Pretty little curlies here and curlies there,
Don’t want to live without them,
I love them, goodness knows,
I wrote a song about them, and here’s the way it goes:
Pubic hairs!
You’ve got the cutest little pubic hairs,
There’s no one else on earth who can compare,
Pubic hairs!
Clitoris or vagina, nothing could be finer than those
Pubic hairs!
I’m up in heaven when I’m in your underwear,
I didn’t need a shove, to take a mouthful of,
Those pretty pubic hairs!
Pubic hairs!
You’ve got the cutest little pubic hairs,
There’s not another one who’s half as fair,
Pubic hairs!
My poor heart is jumpin’, you sure have started somethin’ with those
Pubic hairs!
I’m up in heaven when I’m in between your thighs!
I didn’t need a shove, ’cause I just fell in love
With your pretty pubic hairs!
PUT YOUR LEFT LEG OVER MY SHOULDER
Melody – Side by Side
Put your left leg over my shoulder,
Put your right leg over my shoulder,
(wag tongue)
La la la la la, la la la la, la la la.
Put your left tit over my shoulder,
Put your right tit over my shoulder,
(shake head)
Bla bla bla bla bla, bla bla bla bla, bla bla bla.
PUT YOUR LEGS ROUND MY SHOULDERS (HARRIERS)
Melody – Put Your Head on My Shoulder
Attributed to Little Shit, Austin HHH
Put your legs round my shoulders (shoulders),
Let me lick your lips slowly (slowly),
You know you are the only (only),
Hasher I let sit on my face (my face)
Put your lips on my sweet meat (sweet meat),
Cause you know that it’s a real treat (real treat),
And you know you just can’t beat (can’t beat),
The taste of my meat in your mouth (your mouth)
Put your legs round my midriff (midriff),
Cause I’ve got something real stiff (real stiff),
And I know you’d be real miffed (real miffed),
If you miss out on your chance (EAT SHIT!)
PUT YOUR LEGS ROUND MY SHOULDERS (HARRIETTES)
Melody – Put Your Head on My Shoulder
Put your legs round my shoulders (shoulders),
Let me suck your cock slowly (slowly),
Because you know you’re not the only (only),
Guy I let sit on my face (my face).
Put your lips on my sweet lips (sweet lips),
Let your tongue do the walkin’ (walkin’),
I’ll be doing all the talkin’ (talkin’),
While I sit on your face (your face).
Put your legs round my midriff (midriff),
Let me ride somethin’ real stiff (real stiff),
You know you will be real miffed (real miffed),
If you miss out on the ride of your life (your life).
Turn me round to the other side (other side),
For a different sort of fun ride (fun ride),
You know you won’t slip and slide (slip and slide),
When I’ve got you up on my back side (back side).
Put your lips round my big toe (big toe),
Suck me into erotic throes (erotic throes),
But you really, really must know(must know),
I don’t get off on you sucking my big toe (big toe).
PUT YOUR THIGHS ON MY SHOULDERS
Melody – Put Your Head on My Shoulder
Contributed by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
Put your thighs on my shoulders, hold me in your arms, baby,
Sweep me off my feet, show me, that your twat is wet,
Put your lips next to mine, dear, won’t you kiss it once, baby,
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe, you and I could fall in lust.
People say that love’s a fame, a game you just can’t win,
If there’s a way, I’ll find it someday,
And then the next time, I’ll stick it in, dear.
Put your thighs on my shoulders, whisper in my ear, “Eat me,”
Words I want to hear, “Eat me,”
Tell me that you’ll screw me, too.
RAWHIDE
Melody – Rawhide
Rollin’, rollin’, rollin,
My dick is gettin’ swollen,
I got this doggie rollin’, Rawhide.
My knob is hard as leather,
But I’ll get it in whatever,
I wish I could get the tip inside,
I stab but I keep missin’,
This wasn’t made for pissin’,
I’m waiting for this year’s first ride.
CHORUS:
Pull ’em down, get ’em off,
Get ’em off, pull ’em down,
Pull ’em down, Get ’em off, Rawhide.
Stick it in, pull it out,
Pull it out, stick it in,
Stick it in, pull it out, Rawhide.
She’s movin’, movin’, movin’,
Stops my manhood groovin’,
This doggie won’t stop movin’, Rawhide.
It’s gonna be sore later,
But I’ve been a masturbator,
All those years that I’ve just spent inside,
My balls they are aching,
From ages wanking, waiting,
Waiting to get this thing inside.
Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’,
I’m rootin’ her assholin’,
We’re mounted doggy style, Rawhide.
I don’t try to understand her,
Just catch and grope and bang her,
Now her twat is gettin’ wet and wide,
My foreskin’s torn and tattered,
Her pussy’s worn and battered,
At last I’ll drop my load inside.
THE REAL STORY OF GILLIGAN’S ISLAND
Melody – Gilligan’s Island Theme
Attributed to John Valby (aka Doctor Dirty), contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material)
Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip,
That started with a drippy dick,
And a cold sore on my lip.
The skipper started getting rough,
He grabbed my scrotum sack,
Pulled it back between my legs,
And shoved it up my crack.
The professor sucked off Mary Anne,
And Thurston Howell the 3rd,
Was nuzzlin’ Gilligan’s asshole,
Hopin’ for a turd.
Mrs Howell and Ginger were doin’ 69,
Ginger thought her period was late . . .
But it was right on time!
THE RINGADANGDOO
Melody – My Ding-a-Ling (Chuck Berry)
CHORUS:
The ringadangdoo, pray what is that?
It’s furry and soft, like a pussycat,
It’s got a crack down the middle,
And a hole right through,
That’s what they call the ringadangdoo.
I once knew a girl, her name was Jean,
The sweetest girl I’d ever seen,
She loved a boy who was straight and true,
Who longed to play on her Ringadangdoo.
So she took him to her father’s house,
And crept inside as quiet as a mouse,
And they shut the door and the window too,
And he played all night on her Ringadangdoo.
The very next day her father said,
“You’ve gone and lost your maidenhead!
You can pack your bag and suitcase too,
And bugger off with your Ringadangdoo.”
So she went to town and became a whore,
And hung a red light outside her door,
And one by one and two by two,
They came to play on her Ringadangdoo.
There came to that town a son of a bitch,
Who had the pox and the seven-year itch,
He had gonorrhea and syphilis too
So that was the end of her Ringadangdoo.
ROLL ME OVER IN THE CLOVER
Melody – Roll Me Over in the Clover
(Take turns leading verses)
Well, this is number one,
And the fun has just begun,
Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again.
CHORUS:
Roll me over in the clover,
Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again.
Well, this is number two,
And my hand is on her shoe, etc
Well, this is number three,
And my hand is on her knee, etc
Well, this is number four,
And we’re rolling on the floor, etc
Well, this is number five,
And the bee is in the hive, etc
Well, this is number six,
And she says she likes my tricks, etc
Well, this is number seven,
And we’re in our seventh heaven, etc
Well, this is number eight,
And the nurse is at the gate, etc
Well, this is number nine,
And the twins are doing fine, etc
Well, this is number ten,
And we’re at it once again, etc
Well, this is number eleven,
And we start again from seven, etc
Well, this is number twelve,
And she said, “You kan jag isalv,” etc
Well, this is number twenty,
And she said that that was plenty, etc
Well, this is number thirty,
And she said that that was dirty, etc
Well, this is number forty,
And she said, “Now you are naughty,” etc
ROTTEN COCKSUCKERS’ BALL
Melody – Itself
Well, I say
Come on, cock-suckin’ Sammy, get yer money from yer mammy,
We’re goin’ downtown to the cocksuckers’ ball,
Fuck, suck, and fight,
Till the ‘ginnin’ of the broad daylight,
We don’t need no god-damn taxi fare,
We gonna trim them whores in a rockin’ chair,
Take off all their rags,
We gonna play a little game called tag,
Tomorrow night at the rotten cocksuckers’ ball,
Ah, ah, ah,
Come on you poor-ass singers and you big dick slingers,
We goin’ downtown to the cocksuckers’ ball,
Fuck, suck, and fight,
Till the ‘ginnin’ of the broad daylight,
We don’t need no god-damn taxi fare,
We gonna trim them whores in a rockin’ chair,
Take off all their rags,
We gonna play a little game called tag,
Tomorrow night at the rotten cocksuckers’ ball,
Cha-cha-cha-cha,
At the rotten
(all) Rotten
Cock
(all) Cock
Suckers’
(all) Suckers’
(all) Rotten cocksuckers’ ball.
RUBBER DICKIE
Melody – Rubber Ducky
Composed by Porno Pretzel, Emerald Coast HHH; contributed by M.I.A.
Rubber dickie, you’re the one,
You make bedtime so much fun,
Rubber dickie, I’m awfully fond of you (boop boop a doo).
Rubber dickie, toy of toys,
When you’re in me I make noise,
Rubber dickie, you’re my very best friend, it’s true.
Every day when I make my way to my beddie,
I find my rubber dickie is always charged up and ready,
I like to wear my teddy.
Rubber dickie, you’re so fine,
And I’m happy that you are mine,
Rubber dickie, I’m awfully fond of . . .
Rubber dickie, you’re the magical wand of . . .
Rubber dickie, you’re the one that I love in me.
RUBBER DILDO
Melody – Rubber Ducky
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
Rubber dildo, you’re the one,
You make showers lots of fun.
Rubber dildo I’m awfully fond of you.
Boob boop e doo.
Rubber dildo, shaft of joy,
You’re a woman’s favorite toy.
Rubber dildo you’re my very best friend it’s true.
Ooh, ooh ah ooh.
Every night when I
Stat to play with my buddy
I am so, doggone happy that I’m not stuck with a buddy.
Rub a dub dubby.
Rubber Dildo, you’re so fine
I’m so thankful that you’re mine
Rubber Dildo I think I’m in love with you.
(With feeling)
Rubber Dildo, you’re so fine,
I’m so thankful that you’re mine.
Rubber dildo I think I’m in love with,
Rubber dildo I’d like a whole drawer of,
Rubber dildo I think I’m in love with you.
SEVEN NERVOUS DAYS
Melody – Seven Lonely Days
Seven nervous days, I’ve waited for results,
Seven lonely nights I’ve stayed away from you,
I never could have guessed, I had no idea,
That you’d given me a dose of gonorrhea.
CHORUS:
Oh my darling I’m crying,
Boo-hoo poor me,
‘Cause the doctor’s prescribing
Penicillin for me.
You said you were drunk,
Now does that make it right?
I think you’re a lousy skunk,
To sleep with a transvestite.
Said you couldn’t tell,
It was very hard to find,
So you thought what the hell,
And rammed it up behind.
I knew I had a dose,
‘Cause it hurts when I pee,
If you ever come close,
I’ll cut off your willie.
I never felt so shy,
You caused me so much strife,
But now it’s your turn to cry,
‘Cause you gotta tell your wife.
LAST CHORUS:
Oh my darling you’re crying,
Boo-hoo, boo-hoo,
Now the doctor’s prescribing
Penicillin for you too.
SEX IS BORING
Melody – Frere Jacques
Sex is boring,
Pain is fun,
Gonna cut my fingers off,
One by one . . .
Sex is boring,
Pain is fun,
Pulling out my pubic hairs,
One by one . . .
Sex is boring,
Pain is fun,
Poking out my eyes,
One by one . . .
Sex is boring,
Pain is fun,
Cutting off my gonads,
One by one . . .
SIT ON MY FACE (VERSION # 1)
Melody – Swinging on a Star
Some verses by Flying Booger
Would you like to sit on my face?
It’s a very comfortable place.
Slide your crotch up over my nose,
Or would you rather suck my hose?
My hose is an animal that lives in my pants,
It’ll come out to meet you if you give it a chance.
It begs your pardon, but it’s grown quite long,
It’s a little bit crooked, but it’s healthy and strong,
So if you’d like to feel it nice and thick,
You could bend down and suck my prick.
Would you like to fuck in my car?
Carry sperm juice home in a jar,
Get the back seat all in a mess,
Or would you rather lick my ass?
My ass is an animal that lives near my bone,
It’s often neglected as an erogenous zone,
I took a shower and it doesn’t smell,
And when I shit I wiped like hell,
So if you’d like to give it a go,
You could bend down and lick my asshole.
Would you like to have some orgasms?
Feel your pussy twitchin’ in spasms,
Do it over and over again,
Or would you rather fuck my chin?
My chin is an animal that lives under my nose,
It doesn’t get half the action of my hose,
It’s narrow and pointy, it’ll go right in,
Rub you clit on my whiskers, it’s a downright sin,
So if you’d like to come once or twice,
Fuck my chin, it’s rather nice.
SIT ON MY FACE (VERSION # 2)
Melody – Red River Valley
Come and sit on my face if you love me,
Come sit on my face if you care,
Let me look into your Red River Valley,
And stare into your pubic hair.
SIT ON MY FACE AND TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME
Melody – Same, from Monty Python (copyrighted material)
Sit on my face and tell me that you love me,
I’ll sit on your face and tell you I love you too.
I love it when you oralize,
When I’m between your thighs,
You blow me away!
Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you,
I’ll sit on your face and tell you I love you truly.
Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine,
If we sit on our faces in all sorts of places and play,
‘Til we’re blown away!
SQUARE DANCE
Up with the petticoat,
Down with the pants,
In with the pecker,
Everyone dance.
Girls with the rags on,
Up against the wall.
Guys with hardons,
Promenade the hall.
Gals grab your partners,
Firmly by the balls.
Make him holler, make him shout,
Put your pretty ass, up against his snout.
First lady go, second lady pass, third lady’s finger up the fourth man’s ass.
Finger out, promenade the hall,
Now release the poor gent’s balls.
Then down with the petticoat, up with the pants, for this is the end of the
Old Square Dance.
SUNSTROKE, SYPHILIS, VARICOSE VEINS
Melody – ???
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
You wake up in the morning in a terrible rage,
Your mouth, it feels like an unswept cage,
You’ve got lead in your pants, you’ve got fluff in your brains,
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins.
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
Sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
The agony goes but the order remains,
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins.
Your legs, your realize, are far from limber,
Your teeth, they chatter like a baby marimba,
You call the doctor, and he explains,
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins.
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
Sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
You’re full of genital and vascular pains,
You’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins.
We call in the specialists from all the nations,
The say you have the usual complications,
The sunstroke loses, and the syphilis gains;
And for the rest of your life you’ll have varicose veins.
Sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
Sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins,
You feel like your water’s cut off at the mains,
When you’ve got sunstroke, syphilis, and varicose veins.
SUPERCALLOUSFLAGELLISTICSEXPECTCUNNILINGUS
Melody – Supercallifragilisticexpecalidosious
CHORUS:
Supercallousflagellisticsexpectcunnilingus,
Queers like to take it up the bum from dildoes, dicks, or fingers,
Lesbians like their tonguing slow to make the climax linger,
But Supercallousflagellisticsexpectcunnilingus,
Um-diddle-diddle-diddle, Um-diddleye
My fat Auntie Ethel was into suits of rubber,
Then she met the Michelin Man and took him as a lover,
But they used a diesel tube for enemas on each other,
The explosion rocked the city hall and covered it in blubber.
Um-diddle-diddle-diddle, Um-diddleye
Uncle John likes whips and knives and ladies to disfigure,
Auntie Kath liked to be tied and whipped with bamboo canes or wicker,
She said, “Whip me, whip me, and make me writhe and slither,”
He said, “No, I’ll tickle you, that will make my dick get stiffer.”
Um-diddle-diddle-diddle, Um-diddleye
Uncle Cyril, we always knew, was into brown battery,
He stuck a dildo up his boyfriend’s bum with lots of beer and flattery,
“Take it out and I’ll give you dick,” he said quite matter of factly,
“Oh no, please don’t take it out but kindly change the battery!”
Um-diddle-diddle-diddle, Um-diddleye
Mary Jane looks like a man but on little girls she’s keener,
Thought she’d take a virgin home and try to get between her,
The virgin said, “Oh no please sir, I don’t knowwhere it’s been, sir,”
Mary Jane said, “It’s factory fresh,” and introduced a wiener.
Um-diddle-diddle-diddle, Um-diddleye
SYPHILIS
Melody – Four and Twenty Blackbirds
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Sing a song of syphilis,
A penis full of pus,
Four and twenty pox scabs,
Waiting to be burst.
And when her legs were opened,
Oh what a sight to see,
Oozy gray-green matter,
All running with her pee.
TAKE ME OUT FOR A GOOD BALL
Melody – Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Contributed by Zippy
Take me out for a good ball,
Lay me down on the ground.
Give me yourpenis and three stiff whacks,
If you come first, I won’t ever come back.
For it’s shoot, shoot, shoot for the hole please!
I can’t believe you’re so lame!
From the front, back, side, I don’t care!
You’re a damn bad lay!
TAKE ME OUT TO THE GANG BANG
Melody – Take Me Out to the Ball Game
By Mommy’s Dear Ass, jHavelina HHH
Take me out to the Gang Bang,
I like sex with a crowd,
Three-somes and more-somes are truly grand,
Use your tongue, your dick or a hand,
‘Cuz it’s shoot, shoot, shoot your hot cream,
If you don’t cum, Oh Gol’ Dang,
For it’s one, two,
Let’s fuck her BLUE
At the Ol’ Gang Bang!
THE TRIANGLE
Recitation for Three Hashers
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv,
(together) Three Hashers of quite different intentions.
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv,
(together) Seeking sex in three different directions.
(hetero) I love with a will girls from Sydney to Dover,
(homo) I loved with a Will till Will said it was over,
(perv) I loved with Will, Wilhelmina, Junior, and Rover,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv.
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv,
(together) As we search for this, that, or the other,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv,
(together) It’s so strange, we’re from the same mother.
(hetero) I once fancied a Harriette brim full of beer,
(homo) I once fancied our G.M., he had a nice rear,
(perv) I remember the fellow, I came in his ear,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv.
(one by one) I’m normal, Informal, Who knows?
(together) All for one, one for all, up your nose,
You can number us all amongst those,
Who give thanks for the age of permission.
(hetero) I once had a Harriette who was lovely to lick,
(homo) I once tried a Harriette, but she made me feel sick,
(perv) I once knew a Harriette who liked horses’ dicks,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv.
(one by one) He’s staid, They’re depraved, He’s the end,
(together) Getting kicks in our different manners,
We’re ourselves so why should we pretend?
We live and let live so why ban us?
(hetero) I once had an affair with a pretty Kathleen,
(homo) I’m not into royalty, but my lover’s a queen,
(perv) I got mine stuck in a vending machine,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv.
(one by one) I like girls, I like guys, I like sex,
(together) Our threesome is gruesome though sensual,
Not knowing quite who to do next,
To fulfill all our latent potential.
(hetero) Is life a bright flower simply there for the plucking?
(homo) Or a ripe juicy banana awaiting a sucking?
(perv) I don’t care what it is, I’m just here for the fucking,
(one by one) I’m hetero, I’m homo, I’m a perv.
THESE FOOLISH THINGS
Melody – These Foolish Things
(Take turns leading verses)
A pair of boobies in a loose brassiere,
A cunt that twitches like a moose’s ear,
A dirty rubber in my glass of beer,
These foolish things remind me of you.
CHORUS:
Da-doo, da-doo, da-doo-da-doo-da-doo-doo-doo-doo, etc . . .
A naked photograph of Liberace,
The smile you show when I say, “Such a hotche,”
Syphilitic scars that make your face so blotchy,
These foolish things remind me of you.
A running sore beside an open hole,
A Kotex floating in the toilet bowl,
A pubic hair on my breakfast roll,
These foolish things remind me of you.
Lipstick traces on an old French letter,
A dose of “you-know-what” that won’t get better,
And when I piss it stings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
The dirty panties in the cracked washbasin,
The broken jerry that I washed my face in,
The bed with the creaking springs,
These foolish things remind me of you.
An old dead fetus on a marble slab,
A toothless blowjob in a taxi cab,
A great big hard on with a syphilitic scab,
These foolish things remind me of you.
When I awoke upon the morning after,
I saw your tits and pissed myself with laughter,
Oh, how the left one swings!
These foolish things remind me of you.
The birth control book with its well-worn pages,
The contraceptive which comes off in stages,
Oh, how my foreskin stings!
These foolish things remind me of you.
WAVES AND WAVES
Melody – Both Sides Now
Composed by Brian “The Bard” Davies, Surabaya HHH, Indonesia
Waves and waves of golden hair,
Her lips so red, her skin so fair,
Her breasts they were a perfect pair,
They took my breath away,
I courted her from week to week,
I held her hand, I kissed her cheek,
No other favors did I seek,
Or try to get my way.
CHORUS:
I’ve humped with her from both sides now,
In and out, up and down,
In all experience I do declare,
I’ve never seen a tattoo there.
She sat herself upon my knee,
And turning round she said to me,
“I’ve saved myself for you, you see,
Until our wedding day,
It’s only twice I’ve been untrue,
Phuket Hash they did me screw,
The Yankee navy laid me too,
And had their ends away.”
I must admit I’ve played some tricks,
What’s one destroyer full of pricks?
Phuket Hashmen in their kits,
Would surely lose their way,
But like a cad, my chance did seize,
I’d never been between her knees,
And my pure angel just to please,
Upon her back did lay.
Waves and waves of pubic hair,
The cooties crawling everywhere,
The flavored douches sprayed in there,
It’s strawberry today,
And if you get inside her pants,
Cave paintings in the south of France,
The only way that I could chance,
Describing what I saw.
Orangutans hang from her clit,
A serpent’s head peers from the slit,
A dragon rampant on each tit,
Each face a different way,
To drop your head and taste the dew,
Is like feeding time at London Zoo,
I took some snake bite serum too,
I’m not ashamed to say.
Now hordes and hordes of curious guys,
Pay for the pleasure and surprise,
Of gazing between my girlfriend’s thighs,
It’s made me rich today,
So pay now if you’ve a need,
No clap, no VD, guaranteed,
Maybe some babies, I’ll concede,
Just form a queue – this way.
WEDDING SONG
Melody – Side by Side
We got married on Sunday,
The party didn’t finish till Monday,
And when the guests had gone home,
We were alone,
Side by side.
Well we got ready for bed then,
And I very nearly dropped dead when,
Her teeth and her hair,
She placed on the chair,
Side by side.
Well the shock did very near kill me,
When her glass eye did fall,
Then her leg and her arm,
She placed by the chair,
Side by side.
Well this left me broken hearted,
For most of my wife had departed,
So I slept on the chair,
There was more of her there,
Side by side.
WHEN THE END OF THE MONTH ROLLS AROUND
Melody – As the Cassions Go Rolling Along
You can tell by the stain that she’s in a lot of pain
When the end of the month rolls around.
You can tell by her stance she’s got cotton in her pants
When the end of the month rolls around.
CHORUS:
For it’s hi, hi, hee, in the Kotex industry,
Shout out your sizes loud and strong:
Junior, Regular, Super-Duper, Bale of Hay!
For where e’re we go you will always know
When the end of the month rolls around.
You can tell by her walk that you’ll sit around and talk
When the end of the month rolls around.
You can tell by the blotch that she’s got a leaky crotch
When the end of the month rolls around.
You can tell by her eyes there is blood between her thighs
When the end of the month rolls around.
You can tell by her pout that her eggs are falling out
When the end of the month rolls around.
WHO IS IN THE KITCHEN WITH AH HIN?
Melody – Who is in the Kitchen With Dinah?
Who is in the kitchen with Ah Hin?
Who is in the kitchen with Ah-Ah Hin?
Who is in the kitchen with Ah Hin?
Playing with his tiny thing?
Ah Hin, tiny thing, Ah Hin, tiny thing.
Ah Hin, tiny thing, playing with his tiny thing.
Who is in the toilet with Ah Sai?
Who is in the toilet with Ah-Ah Sai?
Who is in the toilet with Ah Sai?
Playing with her twa-cheebye?
Ah Sai, twa-cheebye, Ah Sai, twa-cheeby.
Ah Sai, twa-cheebye, playing with her twa-cheebye.
Who is in the bedroom with Ah Leng?
Who is in the bedroom with Ah-Ah Leng?
Who is in the bedroom with Ah Leng?
Playing with her twa-liap leng?
Ah Leng, twa-liap leng, Ah Leng, twa-liap leng.
Ah Leng, twa-liap leng, playing with her twa-liap leng.
WHO NEEDS SEX?
Melody – Three Blind Mice
First verse by Flying Booger, second by Hazukashii, third by Square Root
Who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
It’s no fun,
It’s no fun,
You chase after women and what do you get?
You grumble and fumble and break out in sweat,
You wake up at daylight just deeper in debt,
So who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
It’s no fun,
It’s no fun,
You meet a new women and go on a date,
You hug and you kiss and you think that it’s great,
She gives you blue balls and you masturbate,
So, who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
It’s no fun
It’s no fun
He grunts and he gasps like he’s on a long run
He’s in for a minute then he squirts on your bum
Then he falls asleep as soon as he’s done
So who needs sex?
Who needs sex?
WILL YOU MARRY ME? (DUET)
Melody – Itself
If I give you half-a-crown,
Can I take your knickers down?
Will you marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
Will you marry me?
If you give me half-a-crown,
You can’t take my knickers down.
You can’t marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
You can’t marry me.
If I give you fish and chips,
Will you let me squeeze your tits?
Will you marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
Will you marry me?
If you give me fish and chips,
You may not squeeze my tits,
You can’t marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
You can’t marry me.
If I give you my big chest,
And all the money I possess,
Will you marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
Will you marry me.
If you give me your big chest,
And all the money you possess,
I will marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
I will marry you.
Get out of the door, you lousy whore,
My money was all you were lookin’ for,
And I’ll not marry, marry, marry, marry, marry,
I’ll not marry you.
——————————————————————————–
HASH CALISTHENICS
Button Factory
Dunkirk
Father Abraham
Father Damien
Games
Hanky Panky
Hi, My Name is Lee
If I Had a Hard-On
I’m in Love With the Girl Next Door
Lion-Hunt Song
Lion-Hunt Song (variation)
Macdonald’s Farm
Monday is a Wanking Day
Music Man
My Hat It Has Three Edges
One On the Table
Pirate Ditty
Singing In the Rain
Slave Cheer and I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixing-To-Worship Rag
There Is Nothing Like a Dame
Twelve Days of Ramadan
Yo Mama
THE BUTTON FACTORY
Melody – None (this is a chant, with a fast, steady beat)
CHORUS:
Hi, my name is Joe,
And I work at the button factory,
Got a wife, three kids – all brats,
And the boss he says to me:
He says, “Joe, are you busy?”
I say, “No.”
He says, “Push this button with your __________”
WORDS & ACTIONS:
Left finger
Right finger
Left toe
Right toe
Nose
Big fat ass
etc . . .
LAST CHORUS:
Hi, my name is Joe,
And I work at the button factory,
Got a wife, three kids – all brats,
And the boss he says to me:
He says, “Joe, are you busy?”
I say, “YES!”
DUNKIRK
Melody – It’s a Long Way to Tipperrary
It’s a long way to Tipperrary,
It’s a long way to go,
It’s a long way to Tipperrary,
I walked it, so I know,
Good bye, Sticky Willie,
Farewell, pubic hair,
It’s a long way to Tipperrary,
And I’ve never been there.
Note – the idea is to get the circle singing and marching while re-enacting Dunkirk. During the song various members act out pieces of the story while everyone else sings and marches. It helps if you’ve seen it performed before. Parts are:
Sperm in soldier’s ball bag
Dog barking
Cock crowing
Distant marching (stamp feet)
Sergeant shouting
Luftenbastards attacking (several hashers wheel left in a circle shooting at everything with arms outstretched)
Biggles and the R.A.F. (several hashers wheel right in a circle shooting at everything with hands around eyes to look like goggles)
Anti-aircraft fire (several hashers raise arms and pom-pom fire)
GAMES
(What to do when you want to get a bunch of hashers totally shitfaced)
Tap Tap Game: Everybody sits around a table with both hands on the table. Each person places his or her hands between the hands of the people sitting next to him, so that each person at the table has two strange hands in front of him. One person taps a hand, and tapping goes around the circle to the right, hand by hand. It may be your hand’s turn or someone else’s hand’s turn. It may seem like it ought to be your hand’s turn, but it’s hard to keep it straight. Anyway, tapping continues right around the circle until two people tap at once, at which point tapping reverses and goes to the left. The person who blew it chugs a beer, or maybe everyone in the circle chugs. One can see where this game is headed . . .
“What Is It” Game: Take any two different everyday objects and sit in a circle with at least seven or eight people. One person holds both objects (you, for example). You give one to the person on your right. You say, “This is a vibrator” (you can call the object whatever you want to call it – representational truth does not matter for the purposes of this game). The person on your right then asks “What is it?” You repeat, “This is a vibrator.” The person to your right hands the object to the person on his or her right, and says, “This is a vibrator” (don’t change the name). The person on his or her right asks, “What is it?” The person on your right turns back to you and asks, “What is it?” You say, “This is a vibrator.” The person on your right tells the person on his or her right, “This is a vibrator.” And the vibrator moves to the right around the circle in this manner, with the question “What is it?” always being relayed back to you, and your answer, “This is a vibrator” always being relayed forward to the next person to get it. Now, at the same time you started the “vibrator” around to the right, you handed the other object to the person on your left, saying “This is a dildo” (or whatever). This object moves around to the left while the other object moves around to the right, and it gets pretty hard to keep things straight when both objects pass on the far side of the circle.
The “Pink Thing” Game. Some hashes award a Pink Thing to hashers when they reach a specified number of runs, usually 25. The Haberdasher is responsible for having Pink Things made up (scarves, ribbons, hash bibs, whatever – as long as they’re pink). At the awarding ceremony, the Pink Thing is hidden somewhere in the clothing of a hasher of the opposite sex. The awardee then has to find and retrieve the pink thing – without using his or her hands.
FATHER ABRAHAM
Melody – Itself
Leader: Father Abraham had seven sons,
Seven sons had Father Abraham,
And he never smiled,
And he never cried,
All he did was go like this – With a right!
All (shout/actions): With a right! (extend right arm)
Leader: Father Abraham had seven sons,
Seven sons had Father Abraham,
And he never smiled,
And he never cried,
All he did was go like this – With a right!
All (shout/actions): With a right! (extend right arm)
Leader: And a left!
All (shout/actions): And a left! (extend left arm)
More verses/actions:
With a right! (extend right leg)
With a left! (extend left leg)
And a HEEEE! (hump pelvis)
And a HUUHH! (turn around, drop pants, moon pack)
FATHER DAMIEN
Melody – as for “Father Abraham”
Composed by Flying Booger in honor of Father Damien, who cared for the lepers of Molokai
Father Damien, had seven toes,
Seven toes had Father Damien,
And he decomposed,
In bits and chunks,
And he always went like this – With a right!
All (shout/actions): And a right! (kick out right leg)
Oops!
Father Damien, had six toes,etc . . .
HANKY PANKY
Melody – Hokey Pokey
You give the right eye wink
You give the left eye wink
You give the “come here” wink
And he buys us both a drink
CHORUS:
You do the hanky panky
Get his trousers down
That’s what it’s all about
You do the top lip lick
You do the bottom lip lick
You give a little giggle
‘Cause he thinks you’ll lick his prick
You put your right tit out
You put your left tit out
Nipples getting harder
So you shake them all about
You put your right cheek out
You put your left cheek out
You give a little wobble
Watch his eyes pop out
You put your right leg out
You put your left leg out
Spread them at the knees
So he can see what it’s about
You put the right hip out
You put the left hip out
Grab him by the ballocks
And you squeeze until he spouts
You put your pelvis in
You put your pelvis out
Go a little faster
And you grind it all about
You give the right ear groan
You give the left ear groan
Grind a little faster
‘Cause he’s going to drop his load
You give a right cheek kiss
You give a left cheek kiss
Hate to be a liar
But you tell him it was bliss
We’ve done the hanky panky
Got his trousers down
So fuck off!
HI, MY NAME IS LEE
Melody – none (chant and motions as in Button Factory, above)
Contributed by Half Pipe, Los Alamos HHH
Hi, My name is Lee
and I work in a bomb factory.
I got a job
with three phones (All Tapped!)
and my boss
he says to me,
He says “Lee, are you spyin?”
I say “Si!”
He says “Well hide this secret in your left sleeve!”
(repeat)
He says “Well hide this secret in your right sleeve!”
(repeat)
He says “Well hide this secret in your left sock!”
(repeat)
He says “Well hide this secret in your right sock!”
(repeat)
He says “Well hide this secret in your butt!”
(repeat)
He says “Well hide this secret in your mouth!”
mm, mm mmm mmm mmm
mm mm mmm mm m mmm mmmmmmmm
m mm m mmm
mmmm mmmmm mmmmmm (mm mmmmmm!)
mmm mm mmmm
mm mmmm mm mm
mmm mmm mmm mmm mmmmmm
m mmm NO!
IF I HAD A HARD-ON
Melody – If I Had a Hammer
Written by Neptunus, The Hague HHH
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
If I had a hard-on,
A hard-on in the morning,
A hard-on in the evening,
An all-night stand.
I’d screw without danger,
I’d screw without a warning,
I’d screw you, and you,
Your mother and your sister,
Ah-ah, all night long.
(Action: hold dick as if in pain)
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
But I don’t have a hard-on,
No hard-on in the morning,
No hard-on in the evening,
No hard-on at all.
So there is no danger,
You don’t need a warning,
I won’t screw you, and you,
Your mother nor your sister
Oh-no, I want to die.
(Action: wipe tears from face)
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
I bought myself a dildo,
A dildo for the morning,
A dildo for the evening,
To screw around all night.
I screw without danger,
Now I screw without a warning,
But I won’t screw you, or you,
Your mother nor your sister,
Oh-no, I sodomize myself.
(Action: hold ass as if in pain)
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
Oh-eh-oh-eh-oh-eh
I’M IN LOVE WITH THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Melody – ?
I believe this has actions (thus its inclusion in Hash Calisthenics), but have not seen it performed – F.B.
Contributed by Copenhagen HHH
I’m in love with the girl next door
(smell my finger)
She’s a big one
(smell my elbow)
She’s enormous
(smell my armpit)
She’s gigantic
(smell my ankle)
LION-HUNT SONG
Everyone gathers in a circle and faces right, so that they look at the back of the hasher in front of them. Then everyone pulls his or her pants up tight to form a wedgie. If hats are available they should be worn backwards. Everyone places his or her tongue between the lower lip and teeth. Then everyone stamps on the ground in a 1-2-3-4 cadence and begins marching around in the circle. The songmeister shouts out each line, which is immediately shouted back by everyone else in the circle.
CHORUS:
We’re going on a lion-hunt!
(march around stamping)
We’re not afraid!
(continue stamping)
We’ve got guns!
(pantomime holding rifles)
And bullets two!
(hold up two fingers)
Came upon a mountain!
(peak hands to form mountain)
Couldn’t go ’round it!
(move one hand around the “mountain”)
Couldn’t go across it!
(move one hand over the “mountain”)
Had to go through it!
(digging motions with both hands)
OTHER VERSES (done in same manner as “mountain” verse):
Came upon an ocean!
Couldn’t go ’round it!
Couldn’t go across it!
Had to swim through it!
Came upon a jungle!
Couldn’t go ’round it!
Couldn’t go across it!
Had to cut through it!
Came upon a desert!
Couldn’t go ’round it!
Couldn’t go across it!
Had to fly over it!
LAST VERSE:
Came upon a lion!
LION-HUNT SONG (Variation: THE WOMAN’S CUNT)
Melody – Lion Hunt
By Stallion, Copenhagen HHH
Note: You’ll have to think of your own gestures!
We’re going down on a woman’s cunt
We’re not scared
Cause we got tongues
And condoms too
Came across a pussy
A fucking wet pussy
Couldn’t go over it
Couldn’t go around it
Had to lick through it
(repeat the first part)
Came across a virgin
A fucking young virgin
First I fucked through it
Blood came out of it
Had to tam pack it
(repeat the first part)
Came across two holes
Fucking big holes
Lots of hairs around them
Couldn’t decide which one
Shit I chose the wrong one
MACDONALD’S FARM
Melody – MacDonald’s Farm
(Take turns leading verses)
Old MacDonald had a farm,
Ee-ei-ee-ei-oh.
And on this farm he had some cows,
Ee-ei-ee-ei-oh.
CHORUS (SINGING & MOTIONS):
And the cows were cowing it here,
And the cows were cowing it there,
Cowing it here, cowing it there,
Cowing it everywhere
Old MacDonald had a farm,
Ee-ei-ee-ei-oh,
And on this farm he had some rams,
Ee-ei-ee-ei-oh,
SECOND CHORUS:
And the rams were ramming it here,
And the rams were ramming it there,
Ramming it here, ramming it there,
Ramming it everywhere,
And the cows were cowing it here,
And the cows were cowing it there,
Cowing it here, cowing it there,
Cowing it everywhere . . .
MORE VERSES:
Bulls – bulling, Dogs – sniffing, Turkeys – gobbling, Geese – goosing, Pullets – pulling, Sheep – shedding, Whales – spouting, Sharks – finning, etc . . .
MONDAY IS A WANKING DAY
Leader: Today is Monday!
All: Today is Monday!
Leader (wanking motions): Monday is a wanking day!
All (wanking motions): Monday is a wanking day!
CHORUS:
Leader: Are we gonna have a good time?
All: You bet your ass we are!
All (raising mugs over heads and turning in circles while humming): Da da dut dut dut, da da da dut dut dut . . .
Leader: Today is Tuesday!
All: Today is Tuesday!
Leader (fingering motions): Tuesday is a finger day!
All (fingering motions): Tuesday is a finger day!
Leader (wanking motions): Monday is a wanking day!
All (wanking motions): Monday is a wanking day!
CHORUS
(now that you’ve got the idea, here are the rest of the days)
Wednesday is a hmmmm day! (tongues between 2nd & 3rd fingers)
Thursday is a drinking day! (mugs raised in salute)
Friday is a fucking day! (humping, cheering, happiness)
Saturday is a hashing day! (running, cheering, happiness)
Sunday is a day of rest! (heads on pillows)
(modify as needed for local hashing day, etc . . .)
MUSIC MAN
Melody – Itself
(Take turns leading verses)
Leader: I am the music man and I come from
down your way, and I can play . . .
Pack: What can you play?
Leader: I can play the viola.
CHORUS (SINGING & MOTIONS):
Oh, the vio-vio-vio-la, vio-la, vio-la, vio-vio-vio-la, vio-vio-la.
Leader: I am the music man and I come from down your way, and I can play . . .
Pack: What can you play?
Leader: I can play the piano.
SECOND CHORUS:
Oh, the pia-pia-pia-no, pia-no, pia-no, pia-pia-pia-no, pia-pia-no,
Vio-vio-vio-la, vio-la, vio-la, vio-vio-vio-la, vio-vio-la.
OTHER INSTRUMENTS:
Trom-bone, French Horn, Cym-balls, Pica-low, Sexa-phone, Big Bass Drum, Boss’ Knob, Shit House Door, Natalie Wood, Michael Jackson, Grace Kelly, Pope John Paul, etc . . .
MY HAT IT HAS THREE EDGES
Melody – Itself
Contributed by Alte Stein, Hamburg HHH
(replace one word with a gesture each time around until the entire song is done with gestures, not words)
My hat it has three edges,
Three edges has my hat,
Would it not have three edges,
It would not be my hat.
ONE ON THE TABLE
Melody – Guantanamera
(Pay for the table first)
One on the table,
There’s only one on the table,
One on the taaaa-ble,
There’s only one on the table
Two on the table!
There’s only two on the table,
Two on the taaa-ble,
There’s only two on the table
Three on the table!
etc . . .
SHE HAD BIG MOUNTAINS . . .
Melody – Rule Britannia
Contributed by Dick Paschen, who recommends singing this accompanied by large hand movements
She had BIG mountains
And a valley deep and wide,
And ten of Britain’s strongest lads
Are thought to be inside.
They climbed UP those mountains,
Went spelunking in her cave,
And those ten tired British boys
Are in there to this day.
But a good YANK could get them out!
PIRATE DITTY
Melody – None (this is a chant, with a fast, steady beat)
Composed by Thar She Blows, Phoenix Wrong Way HHH
Aye, me name is Joe,
And I work on a ship with cutlery,
Got a wife, three kids, all brats,
And the Cap’n he says to me,
He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy?
I says, No.
He says, Then stab this sailor with your right hand.
Aye, me name is Joe,
And I work on a ship with cutlery,
Got a wife, three kids, all brats,
And the Cap’n he says to me,
He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy?
I says, No.
He says, Then stab this sailor with your left hand.
Aye, me name is Joe,
And I work on a ship with cutlery,
Got a wife, three kids, all brats,
And the Cap’n he says to me,
He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy?
I says, No.
He says, Then kick this sailor with your right foot.
Aye, me name is Joe,
And I work on a ship with cutlery,
Got a wife, three kids, all brats,
And the Cap’n he says to me,
He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy?
I says, No.
He says, Then kick this sailor with your left foot.
Aye, me name is Joe,
And I work on a ship with cutlery,
Got a wife, three kids, all brats,
And the Cap’n he says to me,
He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy?
I says, No.
He says, Then kill this sailor with your teeth.
Arrr, arr arr arr arr,
Arr arr arr arr arr arr arr arr-rr-rr,
Arr arr arr, arr arr, arr arr,
Arr, arr arr-rr arr arr arr arr,
Arr arr, Arr, arrrrr arr arr-arr?
Arr arr, AYE!
SINGING IN THE RAIN (CHIANGMAI PRAYER)
Melody – Singing in the Rain
(Some say this song is supposed to end with group mooning; others insist it’s supposed to end with group farting. If you can get a group of hashers to fart all at once, you’re a better song master than I . . .)
CHORUS:
Ah-zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah-dah,
Zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah-dah.
We’re singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain,
What a glorious feeling,
We’re hap! hap! happy again,
Verse/action: Hold it! Hold it! Hold it!
Arms out!
Repeat chorus adding new line and action each time:
Hands together!
Thumbs up!
Elbows bent!
Shoulders back!
Chest out!
Stomach in!
Ass out!
Knees together!
Heels together!
Toes together!
SLAVE CHEER AND I-FEEL-LIKE-I’M-FIXING-TO-WORSHIP RAG
Melody – Fish Cheer and I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixing-To-Die Rag, by Country Joe and the Fish
By Fuk Stik (dedicated to the mistresses of the California Larrikins HHH)
Head Slave: Gimme a S! Response: S!
Gimme a L! L!
Gimme a A! A!
Gimme a V! V!
Gimme a E! E!
What’s that spell? SLAVE!
What’s that spell? SLAVE!
What’s that spell? SLAVE!
Come on all you, big strong men,
The Hash Mistress is here again.
We’ve all gathered in Hillcrest
Just in case she shows some breast.
So get on your knees and avert your eyes,
We’re gonna hear her cat-o-nine fly
Chorus:
And it’s one, two, three
What are we kneeling for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn
Next stop is the promised land!
And it’s five, six, seven,
Hope it’s not to late,
There ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! Watch the whip fly…
Well come on worms, let’s move fast,
Your big chance chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and show that ass —
The only good man is one that’s thrashed.
And you know when it’s all done,
If you’ve been good, you might get to cum…
And it’s one, two, three
What are we kneeling for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn
Next stop is the promised land!
And it’s five, six, seven,
Hope it’s not to late,
There ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! Watch the whip fly…
Mistress, Mistress, tell me please
What I do now that I’m on my knees…
Whip me, beat me, make me yours
All I want is to be on all fours.
Tease me, taunt me, just give me a chance
To see what’s in those PVC pants…
And it’s one, two, three
What are we kneeling for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn
Next stop is the promised land!
And it’s five, six, seven,
Hope it’s not to late,
There ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! Watch the whip fly…
When it’s all over and I am beat,
I’m still wondering about my meat.
She’s taken my spirit, she’s taken my pride,
And all I got left is a sore behind.
I guess it’s not my place to think,
Just to lick her boots and eat her pink!
And it’s one, two, three
What are we kneeling for?
Don’t ask me I don’t give a damn
Next stop is the promised land!
And it’s five, six, seven,
Hope it’s not to late,
There ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! Watch the whip fly…
THERE IS NOTHING LIKE A DAME
Melody – There Is Nothing Like a Dame, from South Pacific
Contributed by Elephant Dick
LEADER:
There is nothing like a dame,
Nothing, in the world,
There is nothing you can name,
That is anything like a dame.
PACK MEMBER:
Oh yeah? What about a mackerel that dies at sea and floats to shore and lies there stinking in the sun all day?
LEADER:
There is one thing like a dame,
One thing, in the world,
There is one thing you can name,
That is something like a dame.
PACK MEMBER:
What about an ATM machine that takes your card and drains all the money out of your account?
LEADER:
There are two things like a dame,
Two things, in the world,
There are two things you can name,
That are something like a dame.
PACK MEMBER:
How about a rotten job that sucks away all your energy and enthusiasm and leaves you a mere shell of a man?
LEADER:
There are three things like a dame,
Three things, in the world,
There are three things you can name,
That are something like a dame.
Take turns until you run out of ideas . . .
TWELVE DAYS OF RAMADAN
Melody – Twelve Days of Christmas
On the first day of Ramadan King Khalid gave to me,
A book by Salman Rushdie (throw to ground and stamp on it)
Yemenese (big spit)
Three Ayatollahs (sing “ayatollah, ayatollah,” to tune of Hallelujah Chorus while bowing in prayer)
Four Iraqi minesweepers (put hands over ears and stamp feet)
Five Iranian terrorists (jump forward and spray circle with machine gun fire)
Six cruise missiles (sing “We’re coming to blow you away, ha-ha, hee-hee, ho-ho”)
Seven U.S. soldiers (shout “one, two, three, four, I love the Marine Corps” while marching in place)
Eight blindfolded hostages (sing “Show me the way to go home” while stumbling about with arms outstretched)
Nine raving mullahs (shout “Israel must go, Israel must go” while shaking fists in air)
Ten Scud missiles (put fingers in ears and say, “nanny-nanny boo-boo, you missed me!” )
Eleven open sewers (sing “what a pong, what a pong, etc” to tune of William Tell Overture)
Twelve circumcisions (sing “ooh that hurts, ooh that hurts” to tune of The Music Man while running around holding groins)
YO’ MAMA
Chant
Contributed by Hazukashii, Samurai HHH
Take turns leading verses
Leader: Yo Mama don’t wear no drawers
Pack: DING DONG (shouted)
Leader: I saw her when she took ’em all off
Pack: DING DONG
Leader: She threw them into the sky
Pack: DING DONG
Leader: Now Superman won’t even fly
Pack: DING DONG. DING. DONG. DING-A-DING-A-DONG.
DING. DONG. DING-A-DINGA-DONG.
(Insert the DING DONG as above)
Yo’ Mama don’t wear no drawers
I saw her when she took ’em all off
She threw them onto a fence
And I ain’t seen the neighbors since
Yo’ Mama don’t wear no drawers
I saw her when she took ’em all off
She threw ’em into the “head”
Now the tidy-bowl man is dead
Yo’ Mama don’t wear no drawers
I saw her when she took ’em all off
She threw them into the kitchen
And your daddy ain’t stopped his bitchin’
Yo’ Mama don’t wear no drawers
I saw her when she took ’em all off
She threw them on the floor
And the dog won’t lay there no mo’
Yo Mama loves to pick her toes
Green booger snots fall from her nose
Her belly is big and fat
How could ANYBODY look like that?!
Yo Mama’s got cum on her face
Sucks dicks all over the place
She lines ’em up in a row
And she gives ’em a GOOD old blow!
Yo Mama don’t wear no rag.
‘Cuz she uses a burlap bag.
Her pussy is red and raw
‘Bout the GROSSEST thing I ever saw
——————————————————————————–
FAMOUS HARRIETTES
All the Nice Girls
Alouette
Amazing Grace
Black Leather Band
Carolina
Cemetary Sue
Clementine
Daisy, Daisy (I)
Daisy, Daisy (II)
Dinah
Dying Harlot
Fifty Ways to Fuck Your Mother
Fuckin’ Hell She’s Ugly
Girl from Baltimore
Granny’s in the Cellar
Harlot of Jerusalem
In Praise of Harriettes
Jocelyn Elders
Lady Hardonna
Lulu
Lupe
Madeline Schmidt (I)
Madeline Schmidt (II)
Maggy May
Mary
Mary Anne Burns
Mary Ann Mccarthy
Mayor of Bayswater’s Daughter
Miss Lee’s Hoochie
M-O-T-H-E-R
Mrs. McVitie
Mrs. Puggy-Wuggy
My Mother-In-Law
My Sister Lily
Nancy Brown
Nellie Darling
Nellie ‘Awkins
None is Bigger Than Mine
On Top of Old Sophie
Peg O’My Heart
Poor Lil
Poor Little Angeline
Reilly’s Daughter
Sally in the Alley
Seamstress’ Song
Seven Old Ladies
She’ll be Puffin’ Like a Steam Train When She Cums
She’s a Most Immoral Lady
Short Song
Someone’s in the Kitchen With Dinah
Suckanya
Sweet Antoinette
Vanessa Picklegin
Vulva
When I Was a Little Girl
When Lady Jane Became a Tart
Winnipeg Whore
You Take the Legs Off Betty Grable
ALL THE NICE GIRLS
Melody – Ship Ahoy
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
When the man-‘o-war or merchant ship,
Comes sailing into port,
The jolly tar with joy,
Will sing out “Land ahoy!”
With his pockets full of money,
And a parrot in a cage,
He smiles at all the pretty girls,
Upon the landing stage.
All the nice girls love a sailor, all the nice girls love a tar.
‘Cause there’s something about a sailor,
Well, you know what sailors are.
Bright and breezy, free and easy,
He’s the ladies’ pride and joy.
He’s been up our Lady Jane, and he’s going up again,
Ship ahoy, sailor boy.
Jack is partial to the yellow girls,
Across the Eastern seas.
With lovely almond eyes,
The tar they hypnotise.
And when he goes to the Sandwich Isles,
He loves the dusky belles,
Dressed up a la Salome,
Colored beads and oyster shells.
All the nice girls like a candle, all the nice girls like a wick,
Because there’s something about a candle,
That reminds them of a prick.
Nice and greasy, slips in easy,
It’s the surest way to joy,
It’s been up the Queen of Saipan,
And it’s going up again,
Syph ahoy, syph ahoy.
He will spend his money freely,
And he’s generous to his pals.
While Jack has got a sou,
There’s half of it for you.
And it’s just the same in love or war,
He goes through with a smile.
And you can trust a sailor,
He’s a white man all the while.
All the nice boys like a harlot, all the nice boys like a whore,
Because there’s something about a harlot,
That they’ve never known before.
She’ll be willing, for a shilling,
And she’ll pep you up, my boy,
But she’ll leave you on the rocks,
With a bloody good dose of pox,
Syph ahoy, syph ahoy.
EXTRA VERSE:
All the parsons like a choir boy, all the parsons like a bum,
Because there’s something about a choir boy,
That would make an angel come.
Roll him over, sleep in clover,
It’s a curate’s only joy,
And you needn’t give a rap,
For you’ll never catch the clap,
Syph ahoy, syph ahoy.
ALOUETTE
Melody – Alouette
(Unsuspecting female volunteer needed)
CHORUS:
Alouette, gentille Alouette,
Alouette je te plumerai.
Leader: Does she have ze stringy hair?
All: Oui, she has ze stringy hair.
Leader: Stringy hair,
All: Stringy hair,
Leader: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah, aah . . . (chorus)
Leader: Does she have ze furrowed brow?
All: Oui, she has ze furrowed brow,
Leader: Furrowed brow,
All: Furrowed brow,
Leader: Stringy hair,
All: Stringy hair,
Leader: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah, ahh . . . (chorus)
Wooden eye (Yes I would!) . . .
Broken nose . . .
Blow job lips . . .
Two buck teeth . . .
Double chin . . .
Swinging tits . . .
Beer belly . . .
Bulbous butt . . .
Furry thing . . .
Leader: Now isn’t she a nice-a girl?
All: Oui, she is a nice-a girl,
Leader: Nice-a girl,
All: Nice-a girl,
Leader: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah . . .
Chorus
Leader/all: How I love her (repeat all)
AMAZING GRACE
Melody – Same
Amazing Grace, how sweet her snatch, that takes a cock like mine,
I once got lost within her thatch, and stuffed her tight behind.
Amazing Grace, her round her tits, how tasty in my mouth,
One nipple points up to the north, the other one sags south.
Amazing Grace, how sweet her clit, just like an oyster pearl,
It nestles deep between two lips, among her pubic curls.
Amazing Grace how deep her hole, the best in all the land,
I tried to put two fingers in and nearly lost my hand.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the girl, she has a lovely heart,
She smells divine when wearing Chanel, and awful when she farts.
Amazing Grace, I love you so, will you sit on my face?
You taste divine, I love you so – oh please Amazing Grace?
Amazing Grace, how large her cunt, no cock can touch the sides,
Southend Rugby Football Club, all fucked Grace and got lost inside.
BLACK LEATHER BAND
Melody – Black Velvet Band (Irish Rovers)
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
CHORUS:
Oh the moonlight gleamed off her piercings,
The mistress was queen of the land
And her whip cracked down as I lay there
Tied up in her black leather band.
In a fun little town called Gomorra
In leather and chain I was bound.
And many an hour of sweet happiness
I spent there while I was tied down.
She liked to go strutting down Main Street,
With me in a muzzle and chains
Reined in by that leather clad damsel
Who’s whip caused such pleasure and pain.
(Chorus)
I gave my all just to please her
As I fed her peeled grapes and I fanned
I groveled to earn the privilege,
Of wearing her black leather band.
One day I came to my senses
And the handcuffs came off of my hands
I left her spread out on her torture rack.
Tied up with her own leather band.
(Chorus)
So come all you randy young fellows
I’d have you take warning by me
Seduced by the lure of depravity
You forget that the pleasures not free.
She’ll strip your pride and your manhood
If you give her that power you see
So just use her as long as you like, me boys
Then turn her right over your knee.
(Chorus, repeat twice)
CAROLINA
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
Way down in Alabama where the bullshit lies thick,
The girls are so pretty that the babies come quick,
There lives Carolina, the queen of them all,
Carolina, Carolina, the cowpuncher’s whore.
She’s handy, she’s randy, she shags in the street,
Whenever you meet her, she’s always in heat,
If you leave your fly open she’s after your meat,
And the bouquet of her cunt knocks you right off your feet.
One night I was riding way down by the falls,
One hand on my pistol, one hand on my balls,
I saw Carolina there using a stick,
Instead of the end of a cowpuncher’s prick.
I caressed her, undressed her, and laid her down there,
And parted her tresses of curly brown hair,
Inserted the prick of my sturdy roan horse,
And then there began a strange intercourse.
Faster and faster went my sturdy steed,
Until Carolina rejoiced at the speed,
When all of a sudden my horse did backfire,
And shot Carolina right into the mire.
Up got Carolina all covered in muck,
And said, “Oh dear, what a glorious fuck,”
Took two paces forward and fell to the floor,
And that was the end of that cowpuncher’s whore.
CEMETERY SUE
Melody – Unknown
They say a hard man is always good to find,
If he’s three days dead then Sue don’t mind
Ask her what she wants and she’ll say she’ll have a
Dose of rigor mortis from a fresh cadaver.
If the hearse is rocking,
Then don’t bother knocking,
Cos there’s room in a coffin for two,
She’s the undertaker’s daughter,
No better than she oughta,
Be, that’s Cemetery Sue.
If Sue can find a stiff with a damn great hard on,
The situation’s grave if you’ll beg my pardon,
He won’t get buried till after he’s been laid,
Cos the undertaker’s daughter is a dead good maid.
An erection can be charming,
When after the embalming,
It stays up for a week or two,
There’s more than one young lad,
Who’s been laid upon the slab,
Thanks to Cemetery Sue.
At nights you’ll find the casket will be tossing,
If a cold hard man is laid out in a coffin,
It’s such a waste to proceed with decent burial,
Until he’s given the last rites necrophilial.
In the funeral parlor,
Sue finds the men are harder,
And they stay like that for a while,
If their dick’s gone wooden,
She knows she’s got a good un,
She’s a dedicated necrophile.
If there’s something Sue really likes to handle,
It’s a corpse all white with dick like a candle,
At the crematorium he won’t go up in smoke,
Till Cemetery Sue has had a posthumous poke.
A corpse will never come,
But stays solid as a gun,
For as long she cares to ride,
He may be young or old
And his body may be cold,
But his dick will get warmed inside.
The police bring her corpses in a zip-lock body bag,
First they get autopsied and then they get a shag,
They may be lying silent with arms folded on their breast,
Dead men tell no secrets, and dead men get no rest:
Sue will have them all,
Till the maggots start to crawl,
As long as there’s rigor in his prick,
Her passion is unfettered,
And the shagging is much better,
With a rock-hard week dead dick.
The cold of a corpse will ignite Sue’s ardour,
She can always find a stiff at the funeral parlour,
Ask her what she wants and she’ll say she’d rather
Have a dose of rigor mortis from a fresh cadaver.
(Add verses and choruses as mood dictates)
CLEMENTINE
Melody – Darling Clementine
There she stood beside the bar rail,
Drinking pink gins for two bits,
And the stinking whiskey drinkers,
Stood in awe before her tits.
CHORUS:
I own my darlin’, I owe my darlin’,
I owe my darlin’ Clementine,
Three bent pennies and a nickle,
Oh my darlin’ Clementine.
Eyes of whiskey, lips of water,
As she vomits in my beer,
Greets the daylight at her window,
With a fucking warming leer.
Hung me guitar on the bar rail,
At the sweetness of the sign,
In one leap leapt out me trousers,
Plunged into the foaming brine.
She was bawdy, she was lusty,
She had no match in her bazoom,
As they sprang forth from her bodice,
Like a melon tree in bloom.
Oh the oak tree and the cypress,
Never more together twine,
Since that creeping poison ivy,
Laid its blight on Clementine.
DAISY, DAISY (I)
Melody – Daisy, Daisy
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer true,
Daisy, Daisy, wouldn’t you like to screw?
I really must beg your pardon,
But I’ve got a ten-inch hard-on,
From beating my meat against the seat,
Of a bicycle built for two.
DAISY, DAISY (II)
Melody – Daisy, Daisy
Contributed by Grizzly
Daisy, Daisy, give me a tit to chew,
I’m half crazy, over a root like you.
It won’t be a stylish entry,
I can’t afford a Frenchie,
But you’ll look sweet, between the sheets
With a bicycle tube up you.
DINAH
Melody – Itself
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Dinah, Dinah, show us your leg,
Show us your leg, show us your leg,
Dinah, Dinah, show us your leg,
A yard above your knee.
I wish I were the diamond ring,
On Dinah’s dainty hand,
Then, every time she wiped her ass,
I’d see the promised LAND, LAND, LAND!
The rich girl rides a limousine,
The poor girl rides a truck,
But the only ride that Dinah has,
Is when she has a RIGHT GOOD FUCK!
The rich girl uses a sanitary towel,
The poor girl uses a sheet,
But Dinah uses nothing at all,
Leaves a trail along the STREET, STREET, STREET!
The rich girl wears a ring of gold,
The poor girl one of brass,
But the only ring that Dinah wears,
Is the one around her ASS, ASS, ASS!
The rich girl wears a brassiere,
The poor girl uses string,
But Dinah uses nothing at all,
She lets the bastards SWING, SWING, SWING!
The rich girl uses Vaseline,
The poor girl uses lard,
But Dinah uses axle grease,
Because her cunt’s so HARD, HARD, HARD!
The rich girl works in factories,
The poor girl works in stores,
But Dinah works in a honky-tonk,
With forty other WHORES, WHORES, WHORES!
THE DYING HARLOT (Three versions)
Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
Oh, a strapping young harlot lay dying,
A pisspot supporting her head,
And all the young bludgers were ’round her,
As she leaned on her left tit and said,
“I’ve been stuffed by the Dutchies and Negroes,
I’ve been stuffed by the Spaniards so tall,
I’ve been stuffed by the English and Irish,
In fact, I’ve been fucked by them all.
So wrap me in foreskins and Frenchies,
And bury me deep down below,
Where all those young bludgers can’t catch me,
The place where all good harlots go.”
______
A dirty old harlot lay dying,
A pisspot supporting her head,
All around her the bludgers were crying,
As she leant on her left tit and said,
“I’ve been fucked by the French and the English,
The Germans, the Japs, and the Jews,
And now I’ve come back to Australia,
To be buggered by bastards like you,
So haul back your filthy old foreskins,
And give me the pride of your nuts.”
So they hauled back their filthy old foreskins,
And played Home Sweet Home on her guts.
______
The dirty old harlot lay dying,
A cunt-rag supported her head,
The blowflies around her were buzzing,
As she turned on her left tit and said,
“I’ve been fucked by the army and navy,
By a bull-fighting toreador,
By Abos and dingoes and dagos,
But never by blowflies before.”
FIFTY WAYS TO FUCK YOUR MOTHER
Melody – Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover, by Paul Simon
Lyrics: Kaye & Christian @ The Humour Consortium (copyrighted material)
The problem is all to do with head she said to me,
The answer is easy if you take it orally,
I’d like to help you with your problem, son, tonight,
There must be fifty ways to fuck your mother.
He said it’s really not my habit to extrude,
Furtermore, I hope my plumbing won’t be lost or misconstrued,
But I’ll repeat myself at the risk of being crude,
There must be fifty ways to fuck your mother.
There must be fifty ways to fuck your mother.
Just slip in the back, Jack,
Wham, bam, slam, Stan,
No need to be coy, Roy,
Just listen to me.
Use some thrust, Gus,
We don’t need to discuss much,
You know the key, Lee,
Just get it for free.
She said it excites me so to see you in such pain,
I wish there was something I could do to make you groan again,
I said I appreciate that and Mama, please explain,
There must be fifty ways to fuck your mother.
She said why don’t I just tie you up tonight,
And I believe that in the morning you’ll put up less a fight,
And then she blew me,
And I realized she probably was right.
There must be fifty ways to fuck your mother.
Fifty ways to fuck your mother.
FUCKIN’ HELL SHE’S UGLY
Melody – All I Want is a Room Somewhere
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
All I want is a whore somewhere,
Great big labia, no pubic hair,
Open mouth with no teeth there,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
Great big tits that hang so slack,
One is yellow and the other black,
Oh boy, have you seen her crack?
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She’s got stretch marks on her guts,
Just like all the other sluts,
An abortion mark that opens and shuts,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
Took her home to meet me mum,
Dad saw her and nearly cum,
“Son,” he said, “have you seen her bum?”
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She’s hunch backed with a broken nose,
Got one club foot with an ingrown toe,
Her menstrual flow comes out of her nose,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She’s got acne you wouldn’t believe,
Broken teeth and breath like cheese,
Her pubic hair is alive with fleas,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She wears a wig ’cause she’s got no hair,
The shit do cling to her underwear,
I should know ’cause I’ve been there,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She buys her clothes in Pasar Baru,
To keep them on she uses glue,
When I take her out my mates all spew,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
Her wooden leg is far too short,
Her one glass eye’s got a list to port,
I’ve shagged her mum, she’s such a sport,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
I met her when she was thrity-five,
I looked into those criss-crossed eyes,
It was hard to tell if she was dead or alive,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She said, “Grab me by my private parts,”
As I did she blew out a fart,
Followed with a grunt from within her cunt,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
She said, “Grab me again while the feelin’ lasts,
Then you can poke me up the ass.”
I said, “No, I think I’ll pass.”
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
Now she’s dead and there ain’t no more,
I fucked to death that rotten whore,
My balls are red and my dick’s so sore,
Oh fuckin’ hell, she’s ugerly, ugerly.
THE GIRL FROM BALTIMORE
Melody – ???
Oh she went to the church just to pray for the people,
But the funk of her cunt knocked the cross off the steeple.
CHORUS:
She’s a dirty motherfucker,
She’s a rotten whore,
She’s the girl from Baltimore.
What did the drunk say?
(Clutch ass and tits):
Bum titty-bum titty-bum titty-bum,
Titty-bum titty-bum titty-bum titty-bum.
Oh she went to the well just to make a wish,
But the . . . knocked off all the fish.
Oh she went for a ride on her motorcycle,
But the . . . knocked the chain off the cycle.
She visited Jakarta on a medical trip,
But the . . . just continued to drip.
She laid a Wednesday run just for a caper,
Using the . . . instead of using paper.
She laid it round a . . . late one afternoon,
But the . . . knocked the star off the moon.
She took a short cut just to get back quicker,
But the . . . made the shiggy thicker.
She led them down a cliff just to test their reaction,
But the . . . made them lose all their traction.
They made her sing a song at the end of the day,
But the . . . made the circle go away.
At last she was a leaver and we gave her a mug,
But the . . . was enough to fill her jug.
GRANNY’S IN THE CELLAR
Melody – unknown
Contributed by Hazukashii, Samurai HHH
Granny’s in the cellar,
Lordy can’t ya smell her,
Making biscuits on that goldarn dirty stove.
In her eyes she got this matter,
That keeps drippin in the batter,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
Down her nose . . .
Down her nose.
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
In her eyes she’s got this matter,
That keeps drippin in the batter,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
Granny’s in the cellar,
Lordy can’t ya smell her,
Making grits on that goldarn dirty stove.
On her face she’s got these zits,
That keep poppin in the grits,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
Down her nose . . .
Down her nose.
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
On her face she’s got these zits,
That keep poppin in the grits,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
Granny’s in the cellar,
Lordy can’t ya smell her,
Making wheat germ on that goldarn dirty stove.
In her mouth she’s got this sperm,
She keeps spittin in the wheat germ,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
Down her nose . . .
Down her nose.
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
In her mouth she’s got this sperm,
She keeps spittin in the wheat germ,
And she whistles as the (sniff) runs down her nose.
THE HARLOT OF JERUSALEM
Melody – London Bridge is Falling Down
In days of old there lived a maid,
She was mistress of her trade,
A prostitute of high repute,
The harlot of Jerusalem.
CHORUS:
Hi, ho, Cathusalem,
Cathusalem, Cathusalem,
Hi, ho, Cathusalem,
The harlot of Jerusalem.
And though she fucked for many a year,
Of pregnancy she had no fear,
She washed her passage out with beer,
The best in all Jerusalem.
Now in a hovel by the wall,
A student lived with but one ball,
Who’d been through all, or nearly all,
The harlots of Jerusalem.
His phallic art was lean and tall,
His phallic art caused all to fall,
And victims lined the wailing wall,
That goes around Jerusalem.
One night returning from a spree,
With customary whore-lust he,
Made up his mind to call and see,
The harlot of Jerusalem.
It was for her no fortune good,
That he should need to root his pud,
And choose her out of all the brood,
Of harlots of Jerusalem.
For though he paid his women well,
This syphilitic spawn of hell,
Struck down each year and tolled the bell,
For ten harlots of Jerusalem.
Forth from the town he took the slut,
For ’twas his whim always to rut,
By the Salvation Army hut,
Outside of Old Jerusalem.
With artful eye and leering look,
He took out from its filthy nook,
His penis twisted like a crook,
The Pride of Old Jerusalem.
He leaned the whore against the slum,
And tied her at the knee and bum,
Knowing where the strain would come,
Upon the fair Cathusalem.
He seized the harlot by the bum,
And rattling like a Lewis gun,
He sowed the seed of many a son,
Into the fair Cathusalem.
It was a sight to make you sick,
To hear him grunt so fast and quick,
While rending with his crooked prick,
The womb of fair Cathusalem.
Then up there came an Onanite,
With warty prick besmeared with shite,
He’d sworn that he would goal that night,
The harlot of Jerusalem.
He loathed the art of copulation,
For his delight was masturbation,
And with a spurt of cruel elation,
He saw the whore Cathusalem.
So when he saw the grunting pair,
With roars of rage he rent the air,
And vowed that he would soon take care,
Of the harlot of Jerusalem.
Upon the earth he found a stick,
To which he fastened half a brick,
And took a swipe at the mighty prick,
Of the student of Jerusalem.
He seized the bastard by the crook,
With a burning furious look,
And flung him over Kedrun’s Brook,
That babbles past Jerusalem.
The student gave a furious roar,
And rushed to even up the score,
And with his swollen prick did bore,
The cunt of fair Cathusalem.
And reeling full of rage and fight,
He pushed the bastard Onanite,
And rubbed his face in Cathy’s shite,
The foulest in Jerusalem.
Cathusalem she knew her part,
She closed her cunt and blew a fart,
That sent him flying like a dart,
Right over Old Jerusalem.
And buzzing like a bumble bee,
He flew straight out towards the sea,
But caught his arsehole in a tree,
That grows in Old Jerusalem.
And to this day you still can see,
His arsehole hanging from that tree,
Let that to you a warning be,
When passing through Jerusalem.
And when the moon is bright and red,
A castrated form sails overhead,
Still raining curses on the head,
Of the harlot of Jerusalem.
As for the student and his lass,
Many a playful night did pass,
Until she joined the VD class,
For harlots of Jerusalem.
IN PRAISE OF HARRIETTES
Melody – Far Above Cayuga’s Waters
Contributed by John Patrick
High above the Harriet’s garter,
High above her knee,
Lies the source of Harriette power,
Her virginity.
Once she had it, Now she’s lost it, It is gone for good, She goes down for all the Harriers like a Harriette should.
Lift her dress, But do it gently, Lay her on the grass, All we live and all we die for is the Harriette’s ass.
JOCELYN ELDERS
Melody – Yankee Doodle
Composed by Flying Booger
Jocelyn Elders lay in bed,
A-rubbin’ on her plumbing,
She thought it safer than a lay,
The only way for cumming.
Jocelyn Elders, stir it up,
Jocylyn, are you randy?
Jocelyn Elders, rub it hard,
You are so very handy.
LADY HARDONNA
Melody – Lady Madonna (Beatles)
Aattributed to the Austin HHH
Lady Hardonna, men at your feet,
Wonder how you manage to beat their meat.
You find the money, when you need to pay the rent,
You know that money isn’t heaven sent.
Friday’s guy arrives without a suitcase,
Sunday’s Hasher creeps in like a bum,
Monday’s guy likes to be tied with his boot lace,
See how they’ll come.
Lady Hardonna, Hasher at your breast,
Wonder how you manage to please the rest?
Lady Hardonna, lying on the bed,
No worry about losing your maidenhead.
Tuesday’s love is never ending,
Wednesday morning milkman didn’t come,
Thursday night your diaphragm needed mending,
See how they’ll come.
Lady Hardonna, Hashers at your feet,
Wonder how you manage to beat their meat?
LULU
Melody – Good Night, Ladies
CHORUS:
Bang, bang, Lulu,
Lulu’s gone away,
Who’s gonna bang bang,
When Lulu’s gone away?
Some girls work in factories,
Some girls work in stores,
But Lulu works in a honky tonk,
With forty other whores.
Lulu had a baby,
It was an awful shock,
She couldn’t call it Lulu,
‘Cause the bastard had a cock.
I took her to the pictures,
We sat down in the stalls,
And every time the lights went out,
She’d grab me by the balls.
She and I went fishing,
In a dainty punt,
And every time she caught a sprat,
She’d stuff it up her cunt.
I wish I were the silver ring,
On Lulu’s dainty hand,
Then every time she scratched her ass,
I’d see the promised land.
I wish I were the chamber pot,
Under Lulu’s bed,
Then every time she took a piss,
I’d see her maidenhead.
Lulu had two boyfriends,
Both were very rich,
One was the son of a banker,
The other a son-of-a-bitch.
Lulu had a boyfriend,
His name was Tommy Tucker,
He took her down the alley,
To see if he could fuck her.
Lulu had a boyfriend,
A funny little chap,
Every time they had a bit,
She’d get a dose of clap.
Lulu was a pretty girl,
She had a lot of class,
Mini-skirts she’d wear a lot,
To show off her pretty ass.
Lulu had a bicycle,
The seat was very sharp,
Every time she sat on it,
It would slip right in her arse.
Lulu had a boyfriend,
He was very fit,
Working all day on the farm,
His job was shoveling shit.
Lulu and a boyfriend,
A stunted little runt,
On day they went to have a bit,
And he vanished up her cunt.
Lulu had a little lamb,
She kept it in a bucket,
Every time the lamb jumped out,
The bulldog used to fuck it.
She and I went walking,
We walked along the grass,
She slipped on a banana peel,
And fell down on her arse.
Lulu made some porridge,
It was very thick,
Lulu wouldn’t eat it,
She’d smear it on my dick.
Lulu’s motorcycle,
It’s seat was very blunt,
Every time she jumped on it,
It would stick her in the cunt.
LUPE
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
‘Twas down in cunt valley where red rivers flow,
Where cocksuckers flourish and maidenheads grow,
‘Twas there I met Lupe, the girl I adore,
She’s a hot fucking, cocksucking, Mexican whore.
CHORUS:
She’ll fuck you, she’ll suck you, she’ll tickle your nuts,
And if you’re not happy, she’ll suck out your guts,
She’ll wrap her legs round you till you want to die,
But I’d rather eat Lupe than sweet cherry pie.
When Lupe was a young girl of just about eight,
She’d swing to and fro on the back garden gate,
The crossmember parted, the upright went in,
And since then she’s lived in a welter of sin.
Now Lupe is dead and she lays in her tomb,
The worms crawl around in her decomposed womb,
The smile on her face, well, it says “Give me more,
I’m a hot fucking, cocksucking, Mexican whore.”
MADELINE SCHMIDT (I)
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
This song is also known as “Adelaine Schmidt.” The second version, adapted for hashing, is from a Thailand hash songbook, authors unknown
There was a young maiden named Madeline Schmidt,
Who went to the doctor ’cause she couldn’t shit,
He gave her some medicine all wrapped up in glass,
Up went the window and out went her ass!
CHORUS:
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
And the whole world was covered in SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!
A handsome young copper was walking his beat,
He just happened to be on that side of the street,
He looked up so innocent, he looked up so shy,
And a big wad of shit hit him right in HIS EYE!
He turned to the east and he turned to the west,
Then a bloody great turd hit him right on the chest,
He turned to the north, then he turned to the south,
And another great turd hit him right in HIS MOUTH!
That handsome young copper he cursed and he swore,
He called that young maiden a dirty old whore,
And beneath London Bridge you can still see him sit,
With a sign ’round his neck saying BLINDED BY SHIT!
______
Two fast moving Hashers came running along,
Throwing flour and paper and singing their song,
Singing, Hi-Diddle-Diddle, and flogging their dongs,
The hares were trail-setting, the pack wouldn’t be long.
The hares found the copper alone by the pit,
Threw flour in the holes where his eyes used to fit,
The hares led the pack by a block and a bit,
Said, “We’ll lead the damn pack through these puddles of SHIT!”
The hares led the pack to the edge of the pit,
They slipped and they slid in the puddles of shit,
They fell in the shiggy, right up to their tails,
Ere they sank out of sight, they marked it TRUE TRAIL!
The pack followed bravely, the pack followed true,
They followed the hares into that vile brew,
They followed true trail right into the pit,
Soon the whole pack of Hashers was drowning in SHIT!
This tale has a lesson if you think a bit,
Don’t follow true trail right into the pit,
Remember that hares can be damn bloody fools,
And in Hashing, like loving, there’s NO FUCKING RULES!
MADELINE SCHMIDT (II)
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
Contributed by Hazukashii, Samurai HHH
There was a young maiden named Madeline Schmidt,
Who went to the doctor ’cause she couldn’t shit,
He gave her some medicine all wrapped up in glass,
Up went the window and out went her ass!
CHORUS:
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
It was brown, brown, shit all around,
And the whole world was covered in SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!
When her ass hit the cold air she didn’t even quiver,
What came out looked like ten pounds of cow’s liver,
She screamed and she hollered and gave out a moan,
She sounded like she was passing a stone.
She shit and she shit and she shit out a lot,
The doctor said why not try using the pot,
It’s over in the corner right next to the sink,
I’m leaving right now cause I’m sure it will stink.
She didn’t leave the window she just let is loose,
That medicine went through her like eggs through a goose,
What came out of her next, I must confess,
Was one stinking, brown God awful mess.
A handsome young copper was walking his beat,
He just happened to be on that side of the street,
He looked up so innocent, he looked up so shy,
And a big lump of shit hit him right in the EYE!
That handsome young copper he cursed and he swore,
He called that young maiden a dirty old whore,
Down at the park you can still see him sit,
With a sign ’round his neck saying BLINDED BY SHIT!
MAGGIE MAY
Melody – Maggie May
Oh, gather round you sailor boys, and listen to my plea,
‘Cause when you’ve heard it you will pity me.
‘Cause I was a Goddamn fool, in the port of Liverpool,
The first time that I came home from the sea.
CHORUS:
Oh, my darling Maggie May,
They have taken her away,
And no more down Lime Street will she roam.
For the judge he guilty found her, for robbing a homeward bounder,
That dirty, robbin’, no good Maggie May.
I was a sailor bound for home, all the way from Sierra Leone,
And two pound ten a month had been my pay.
As I jingled in my tin, I was sadly taken in,
By the lady of the name of Maggie May.
When I steered into her, I just hadn’t a care,
I was cruisin’ up and down ol’ Canning Place.
She was dressed in a gown so fine, like a frigate of the line,
And I bein’ a sailorman, I gave chase.
She gave me a saucy nod, and I like a farmer’s clod,
Let her take me line abreast in tow.
And under all plain sail, we ran before the gale,
And to the Crow’s Nest Tavern we did go.
Next morning when I awoke, I found that I was broke,
No trousers, coat, or wallet could I find.
And when I asked her where, she said, “My dear young sir,
You’ll find them in the pawnshop, number nine.”
To the pawnshop I did go, no trousers could I find,
So the cops they came and took this girl away.
Oh, you thieving Maggie May, you robbed me of my pay,
It’ll pay your fare right out to Botany Bay.
She was chained and sent away, from Liverpool one day,
The lads they cheered as she sailed down the bay.
And every sailor lad, he only was too glad,
They’d sent the old tart out to Botany Bay.
Oh, Maggie, Maggie May, they have taken you away,
For to stay on Van Dieman’s cruel shore.
Oh, you robbed many a whaler, and many a drunken sailor,
But you’ll never cruise ’round Liverpool no more.
MARY
Melody – London Bridge is Falling Down?
Mary in the kitchen punching duff, punching duff, punching duff,
Mary in the kitchen punching duff,
BULLSHIT!
Mary in the kitchen punching duff,
When the cheeks of her arse went chuff, chuff, chuff,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
Mary in the kitchen boiling rice, boiling rice, boiling rice,
Mary in the kitchen boiling rice,
BULLSHIT!
Mary in the kitchen boiling rice,
When out of her cunt jumped three blind mice,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
Mary in the kitchen shelling peas, shelling peas, shelling peas,
Mary in the kitchen shelling peas,
BULLSHIT!
Mary in the kitchen shelling peas,
The hairs of her cunt hung down to her knees,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
Mary in the garden sifting cinders, sifting cinders, sifting cinders,
Mary in the garden sifting cinders,
BULLSHIT!
Mary in the garden sifting cinders,
Blew one fart and broke ten windows,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
Mary had a dog whose name was Ben, name was Ben, name was Ben,
Mary had a dog whose name was Ben,
BULLSHIT!
Mary had a dog whose name was Ben,
Had one ball which worked like ten,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
Mary in the kitchen baking cakes, baking cakes, baking cakes,
Mary in the kitchen baking cakes,
BULLSHIT!
Mary in the kitchen baking cakes,
When out of the tits came two mild shakes,
Shit all around the room, tra-la,
Shit all around the room.
MARY ANNE BURNS
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/mary-ann-burns/
Mary Anne Burns is the queen of all the acrobats,
She can do tricks that’ll give a guy the shits,
She can shoot green peas from her fundamental orifice,
Do a somersault and catch’em on her tits.
She’s a great big son-of-a-bitch,
Twice as big as me,
Got hair on her ass like the
branches on a tree,
She can swim, fish, fight, fuck,
Fly an airplane, drive a truck,
Mary Anne Burns is the girl for me.
MARY ANN McCARTHY
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
Mary Ann McCarthy, she went out to dig some clams,
Mary Ann McCarthy, she went out to dig some clams,
Mary Ann McCarthy, she went out to dig some clams,
But she didn’t get one son of a bitchin’ clam.
All she got was oysters,
All she got was oysters,
All she got was oysters,
And she never got one son of a bitchin’ clam.
She dug up all the mud there was in San Francisco Bay,
She dug up all the mud there was in San Francisco Bay,
She dug up all the mud there was in San Francisco Bay,
And all she ever got was crabs.
All she ever got was crabs,
All she ever got was crabs,
All she ever got was crabs,
And she never got one son of a bitchin’ clam.
She waded in the water till her ass it dug the sand,
She waded in the water till her ass it dug the sand,
She waded in the water till her ass it dug the sand,
But all she ever got was piles.
All she ever got was piles,
All she ever got was piles,
All she ever got was piles,
And she never got one son of a bitchin’ clam.
She went to every party that the Army ever gave,
She went to every party that the Army ever gave,
She went to every party that the Army ever gave,
But all she ever got was clap,
All she ever got was clap,
All she ever got was clap,
All she ever got was clap,
And she never got one son of a bitchin’ clam.
MAYOR OF BAYSWATER’S DAUGHTER
Melody – The Ash Grove
*Variations* contributed by Flying Booger and Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 – hash verses by Flying Booger – in many hashes, the chorus is sung to honor the hares
(Take turns leading verses)
The Mayor of Bayswater,
He has a lovely daughter,
And the hairs on her dickie-di-doe,
Hang down to her knees.
CHORUS:
Leader: And the hairs,
Pack: And the hairs,
Leader: And the hairs,
Pack: And the hairs,
Leader: And the hairs,
Pack: On her dicky-di-doe,
Hang down to her knees.
One black one, one white one,
*And one with a bit of shite on,*
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doe,
Hang down to her knees.
*VARIATIONS*
and one forty pound strength one
and one I caught a trout on
and one I found on a bar of soap
and one that blocked the storm drain
and one she used as dental floss
and one she uses for macramQ
and one dripping in olive oil
and one she towed my car with
and one that smelt of clitty litter
and one to start the mower with
and one they use in gunsights
and one with a drop of piss on
and one covered in algae
and one I start my outboard with
and one I broke a tooth on
and one I found in my mug of beer
and one the crabs are stuck on
and one she winched her Jeep with
and one she marked the trail with
and one she tied her Nikes with
and one she tied her whistle on
and one she roped the calves with
and one she pulled her trailer with
and one they hanged a horse thief with
and one she climbed a cliff with
and one she whipped the orphans with
etc . . .
VERSES:
I’ve smelt it, I’ve felt it,
It’s just like a bit of velvet.
I could not believe my eyes,
When I peered down between her thighs.
I she were my daughter,
I’d have her cut them shorter.
I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it,
I’ve lain right in between it.
I stroked ’em and poked ’em,
I rolled ’em and smoked ’em.
You’d need a coal miner,
To find her vagina.
She lives on the mountain,
and pees like a bloody fountain.
She stayed on a cattle ranch,
And came like a bloody avalanche.
She says she is not a whore,
But she bangs like a shithouse door.
She lives on malted milkshake,
And roots like a bloody rattlesnake.
She married an Italian,
With balls like a fucking stallion.
She divorced the Italian,
And married the stallion.
She married a Spaniard,
With a prick like a bloody lanyard.
She divorced the Spaniard,
And ran off with the bloody lanyard.
The split of her beaver,
Looks just like June Cleaver’s.
She slept with a demon,
Who drowned her with semen.
Her cat’s name is Boris,
And it plays with her clitoris.
The aroma it lingers,
It smells like fish fingers.
She sat on the waterfront,
With the waves lapping up and down her cunt.
I’ve licked it and kissed it,
It tastes like a chocolate biscuit.
You can drive a Morris Minor,
Right up her vagina.
It was always hit-or-miss,
Whether I could find her clitoris.
She went to Arabia,
And got camel drool on her labia.
She stayed in Seattle,
And went down on cattle.
The light is so glitorous,
When it shines off her clitoris.
Her vagina was squishy,
And smelled a bit fishy.
She went with a Hash House Harrier,
Who fucked her but wouldn’t marry her.
(MORE HASH VERSES, BY FLYING BOOGER):
She slept with a Hash House Harriette,
Who played melodies upon her clit.
She wooed the Grand Master,
But he couldn’t satisfy her.
Grand Mattress gave her a go,
She used an electric dildo.
Three Joint Masters did sport in concert,
But they couldn’t reach her G-spot.
She went out with the RA,
But he proved to be a lousy lay.
She seduced the Song Master,
But he couldn’t outlast her.
Hare Raiser did sleep with her,
But got all tangled in her fur.
The hares swived her with great intent,
But they soon were limp and spent.
She depantsed the OnSec,
And scoffed at his tiny dick.
She rogered the Hash Scribe,
And begat an entire tribe.
She stripped for the Biermeister,
He shot off all over her.
Hash Shyster did groan, oh,
As he serviced her pro bono.
She gave head to the Hash Cash,
And he ejaculated in a flash.
The Chipmeister she tried to lay,
But he came during foreplay.
She mooned the Haberdasher,
Who fainted at the sight of her.
An SCB dove in her muff,
But found he hadn’t tongue enough.
She said to the FRB,
“Do it doggie style with me.”
The walkers were red and sore,
She shagged them right across the floor.
She had it off with a Ranger,
But he went DOT inside of her.
To a Whiner she took a shiner,
But he cried, “Any one but her.”
She took on the entire pack,
She was hot but they were slack.
She was brisk with young Zippy,
But he came much too quickly.
So she tried Flying Booger,
But he couldn’t get it up for her.
She had group sex with the Circle,
Next day our parts turned purple.
MISS LEE’S HOOCHIE
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
From the songbook of the 43rd Tactical Fighter Squadron, Elmendorf A.F.B., Alaska
I went to Seoul City, and there met Miss Lee,
She said for a short time, oh come sleep with me.
We went to Lee’s hoochie, a room with hot floors,
I left my shoes outside, and slid shut the door.
She took off her long johns, and rolled out the pad,
I gave her ten thousand, ’twas all that I had.
Her breath smelt of kimchee, her bosoms were flat,
No hair on her pussy, now how about that?
I asked to go benjo, she led me outside,
I reached for Old Smokey, he crawled back inside.
I rushed to the medics, cried “What shall I do?”
The doc was dumbfounded, Old Smokey was blue.
Now when you’re in Seoul City, on your next three-day pass,
Don’t go to Lee’s hoochie, sit flat on your ass.
Now your ass may get blistered, and Lee may tempt you,
But better the red ass, then Old Smokey blue.
M-O-T-H-E-R
Melody – M-O-T-H-E-R
M is for the many things she gave me,
O is only that she’s growing old (she’s growing old),
T is for the tears she shed to save me (save me),
H is for her heart as pure as gold (as pure as gold),
E is for her eyes with lovelight shining (shining),
R is right and right she’ll always be (she’ll always be),
Put them all together, they spell MOTHER,
The one who means the world to me,
I don’t mean maybe,
The one who means the world to me (the world to me).
F is for his farts that used to linger,
A is for his arse all racked with piles (all racked with piles),
T is for the turds he shed by finger (finger),
H is for his hole all wreathed in smiles (all wreathed in smiles),
E is for the eggs he used to dine on (dine on),
R is rotten and rotten they’d always be (they’d always be),
Put them all together, they spell FATHER,
The one who fouls the air for me,
I don’t mean maybe,
The one who fouls the air for me (the air for me).
M is for the many times you made me,
O is for the other times you tried (the times you tried),
T is for those torturous long lost weekends (weekends),
H is for the hell that’s in your eyes (that’s in your eyes),
E is for your ever-lasting passion (passion),
R is for the ruin you made of me (you made of me),
Put them all together, they spell MOTHER,
And that is what I think I’m going to be,
I don’t mean maybe,
And that is what I think I’m going to be (I’m going to be).
MRS. MCVITIE
Melody – Blaze Away
Mrs McVitie had only one titty,
To nurse her child upon,
She has been ravished by Mr McTavish,
And now she’s eight months gone.
McTavish, the vicar, decided to prick her,
And now he’s been defrocked,
Because of the frolics of his cock and bollocks,
And members of his flock.
MRS. PUGGY-WUGGY
Melody – ???
Mrs. Puggy-Wuggy has a square cut punt,
Not a punt cut square,
Just a square cut punt.
It’s round in the stern and blunt in the front,
Mrs. Puggy-Wuggy has a square cut punt.
MY MOTHER-IN-LAW
Melody – Itself
One night in gay Par-ee,
I paid five francs to see
A big fat French lady,
Tattooed from head to knee.
And on her jaw was a British man-of-war,
And on her back was a Union Jack,
So I paid five francs more,
And running up and down her spine
Was the Bangkok Hash in line,
And on her lily-white bum
Was a picture of the rising sun,
And on her fanny
Was Al Jolson singing Mammy,
How I loves her, how I loves her,
How I loves my mother-in-law.
I loves my mother-in-law,
She’s nothing but a dirty old whore,
She nags me day and night,
And I can’t do fuck-all right,
She’s coming home today,
But I hope she stays away,
Now isn’t it a pity,
She’s only one titty,
And she’s in the family way.
Last night I greased the stairs,
Put thumbtacks on the chairs,
I hope she breaks her back,
Because I do love wearing black.
She drinks all my brandy,
And makes my dog feel randy,
How I loves her, how I loves her,
How I loves my mother-in-law.
MY SISTER LILY
Melody – Do Ye Ken John Peel
Oh, my sister Lily is a whore in Picadilly,
And my mother is another in the Strand.
My father flogs his arsehole ’round the Elephant and Castle,
We’re the finest fucking family in the land.
There’s a man deep in a dungeon,
With his hand upon his truncheon,
And the shadow of his prick upon the wall.
And the ladies as they pass,
Stick their hatpins up his arse,
And the little mice play billiards with his balls.
There’s a little green urinal,
To the north of Waterloo,
And another a little farther up.
There’s a member of our school,
Playing tunes upon his tool,
While the passers-by put pennies in his cup.
Have you met my Uncle Hector,
He’s a cock and ball inspector,
At a celebrated public school.
And my brother sells French letters,
And a patent cure for wetters,
We’re not the best of families, ain’t it cool.
NANCY BROWN
Melody – ???
Way out in West Virginia lived a gal named Nancy Brown,
You ain’t never seen such beauty in a city nor a town,
Oh she lived up in the mountain,
Yes she lived up in the mountain,
Oh she lived up in the mountain mighty high.
And so it is related, not a bit contaminated,
She was as pure as the West Virginia sky.
Now there came the local cowboy with his guitar and his song,
He took Nancy to the mountain but she still knew right from wrong,
She came rollin’ down the mountain,
She came rollin’ down the mountain,
She came rollin’ down the mountain mighty fine.
And despite that cowboy’s urgin’ she remained the village virgin,
She was as pure as the West Virginia sky.
Then there came the village deacon with his phrases sweet and kind,
He took Nancy to the mountain but she still could read his mind,
She came rollin’ down the mountain,
She came rollin’ down the mountain,
She came rollin’ down the mountain mighty fine.
And they say that that there deacon didn’t get what he was seekin’,
She was as pure as the West Virginia sky.
But there came the city slicker with his thousand dollar bills,
He put Nancy in his Packard and drove up in them thar hills,
Oh they stayed up on the mountain,
She was laid upon the mountain,
Oh they stayed up on the mountain all that night.
She came down next mornin’ early more a woman than a girl,
And her mother kicked the hussy out of sight.
(Slowly)
Now the end of our ditty finds Nancy in the city,
And by all accounts she’s doin’ mighty swell,
For she’s winin’,
And she’s dinin’,
And she’s on her back reclinin’,
And those West Virginia skies can go to hell.
(Normal tempo)
But there came the big Depression, caught our slicker by the pants,
He had to sell his Packard and give up his little Nance,
So she went back to the mountain,
Yes she went back to the mountain,
Oh she went back to the mountain mighty sore.
Now the cowboy and the deacon get the thing that they were seekin’,
For she’s nothing but a West Virginia whore.
NELLIE DARLING
Melody – I Wish I Were an Oscar-Meyer Wiener
Hash verses by Hazukashii, Tidewater HHH
Oh, your ass is like a stovepipe, Nellie darling,
And the nipples on your tits are turning green,
There’s a thousand flies buzzing ’round your pussy,
Oh, you’re the dirtiest, ugliest, rottenest, fucking bitch I’ve ever seen.
There’s a yard of lint protruding from your navel,
When you piss, you piss a stream as green as grass,
There’s enough wax in your ear to make a candle,
So why not make one, dear, and shove it up your a-a-a-ss.
HASH VERSES:
Oh, your breath could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon,
And your ingrown toenails exude a pus-y cream,
Your nose hair’s long enough to braid or curl,
Your every Ft. Eustis hasher’s fuckin’ dream.
Sucking on your toes would gag Jeff Dahmer,
After sex with you my balls begin to itch,
You need a chainsaw to trim out your armpits,
Your a regular Tidewater Hash House BITCH.
Oh, your butt’s about as wide as a Buick,
And the cellulite hangs off your thighs in chunks,
When your swimming at the beach in the summer,
You look like a Battleship that’s sunk.
Well it’s told you’ve been turned down by Hashers,
That crotch rot your sportin’s gettin’ red,
Could also be the sagging of your titties,
Or the spotty patches of baldness on your head.
NELLIE ‘AWKINS
Melody – ??? (this appears to be several songs put together – the Durex verse is sung to “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” but I don’t know the others)
I first met Nellie ‘awkins down the old Kent Road,
Her drawers were hanging down,
She’d just been with Charlie Brown.
I shoved a filthy tanner in her filthy rotten hand,
‘Cause she was a dirty old whore,
Oh she wore no blouses,
And I wore no trousers,
And we both wore no underwear.
When she caressed me,
She damn near undressed me,
What a pleasure, no man knows.
I went to the doctor – he said,
“Where did you knock her?”
I said, “Down where the green grass grows.”
He said, “In less than a twinkle,
That pimple on your winkle,
Will be bigger than a big red rose.”
CHORUS:
Won’t somebody make my rhubarb rise,
Dada dada da da,
Oh my rhubarb refuses to rise
To its natural size,
Market gardenin’ size,
Oh my rhubarb refuses to rise
‘Cause my baby don’t love me,
My baby don’t love me,
Oh my baby don’t love me no more.
A poke with a bloke may be quite incidental,
Durex is a girl’s best friend.
You may get the works,
But you won’t be parental
As he slides it in,
You trust that good old latex skin,
As he lets fly, none gets by,
Cause it’s all gathered up in the end.
This little precaution
Avoids an abortion,
Durex is a girl’s best friend.
I caught a dose of pox a year ago,
I thought it was the clap and it would go.
But the more I waited, the worse it grew,
Now I’ve got galloping knob rot.
What can I do?
The other day I lost my starboard ball,
And now the other one’s begun to fall,
I’m wasting away, I’ll be sorry someday,
‘Cause then I’ll have no balls at all.
NONE IS BIGGER THAN MINE
Melody – ???
Three old whores from Baltimore
Were drinking sherry wine,
And one of them says to the other two,
“None is bigger than mine.”
CHORUS:
So haul on the sheets me hearties,
Sprinkle the decks with brine,
Bend to the oars, you lousy whores,
None is bigger than mine.
“You’re a liar,” said the second old whore,
“Mine’s as big as the sea.
The ships sail in and the ships sail out,
With nary a tickle to me.”
“You’re a liar,” said the third old whore,
“I’ve had me a thousand men.
There’s some go by and there’s some go in,
And there’s some what never come out again.”
“You’re both liars,” said the first old whore,
“Mine’s as big as the air.
Why the sun could set in the crack of my cunt,
And never burn a pubic hair.”
ON TOP OF OLD SOPHIE
Melody – On Top of Old Smoky
On top of old Sophie,
All covered in sweat,
I’ve used fourteen rubbers,
But she hasn’t come yet.
For fucking’s a pleasure,
And farting’s relief,
But a long-winded lover,
Will bring nothing but grief.
She’ll kiss you and hug you,
Say it won’t take long,
But two hours later,
You’re still going strong.
So come all you lovers,
And listen to me,
Don’t waste your erection,
On a long-winded she.
For your root will just wither,
And your passion will die,
And she will forsake you,
And you’ll never know why.
PEG O’ MY HEART
Melody – Same
Contributed by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
Peg o’ my heart, you vex me,
Peg o’ my heart, you sex me,
When we’re alone, I raise a bone,
So put your ass against the rafter,
It’s your hairy hole I’m after,
Peg o’ my heart.
POOR LIL
Melody – Poor Lil
Her name was Lil and she was a beauty,
She came from a house of ill reputy,
But she drank too deep of the demon rum,
She smoked hashish and opium.
She was young and she was fair,
She had lovely golden hair,
Gentlemen came from miles to see
Lillian in her deshabille.
Day by day her form grew thinner,
From insufficient protein in her,
She grew two hollows on her chest,
Why, she had to go around completely dressed.
Now clothes may make a gal go far,
But they have no place on a fille de joie,
Lillian’s troubles started when
She concealed her abdomen.
She went to the house physician,
To prescribe for her condition,
“You have got,” the doc did say,
“Pernicious anem-i-a.”
She took to treatments in the sun,
She drank of Scott’s Emul-si-on,
Three times daily she took yeast,
But still her clientele decreased.
For you must know her cliente-le,
Rested chiefly on her belly,
She rilled this thing like the deep Pacific,
It was something calorific.
As Lillian lay in her dishonor,
She felt the hand of the Lord upon her,
She said, “Me sins I now repents,
But Lord, that’ll cost you fifty cents.”
This is the story of Lillian,
She was one girl in a million,
And the moral to her story is,
Whatever your line of business is, fitness wins!
POOR LITTLE ANGELINE
Melody – ???
She was sweet sixteen and the village queen,
Pure and innocent was Angeline,
A virgin still, never known a thrill,
Poor little Angeline.
At the village fair, the Squire was there,
Masturbating in the middle of the square,
When he chanced to see the dainty knee,
Of poor little Angeline.
Now the village squire had a low desire,
To be the biggest bastard in the whole damn shire,
He had set his heart on the vital part,
Of poor little Angeline.
As she lifted her skirt to avoid the dirt,
She slipped in the puddle of the squire’s last squirt,
And his knob grew raw at the sight he saw,
Of poor little Angeline.
So he raised his hat and said, “Miss, your cat,
Has been run over and is squashed quite flat,
But my car is in the square and I’ll take you there,
Oh dear little Angeline.”
Now the filthy old turd should have got the bird,
Instead she followed him without a word,
And as they drove away, you could hear them say,
Poor little Angeline.
They had not gone far when he stopped his car,
And took little Angeline into a bar,
Where he filled her with gin, just to make her sin,
Poor little Angeline.
When he’d oiled her well, her took her to a dell,
And there he gave her merry hell,
And he tried his luck with a low-down fuck,
On poor little Angeline.
With a cry of “Rape,” he raised his cape,
Poor little Angeline had no escape,
Now it’s time someone came to save the name,
Of poor little Angeline.
Now the village blacksmith was brave and bold,
And he’d loved little Angeline for years untold,
And he vowed he’d be true, whatever she’d do,
To poor little Angeline.
But sad to say, that very same day,
The blacksmith had gone to jail to stay,
For coming in his pants at the local dance,
With poor little Angeline.
Now the window of his cell overlooked the dell,
Where the squire was giving poor Angeline hell,
As she lay on the grass he recognized the ass,
Of poor little Angeline.
Now he got such a start that he let out a fart,
Which blew the prison bars wide apart,
And he ran like shit lest the squire should split,
His poor little Angeline.
When he got to that spot and saw what was what,
He tied the villain’s penis in a granny knot,
As he lay on his guts he was kicked in the nuts,
By poor little Angeline.
“Oh blacksmith true, I love you, I do,
And I can tell by your trousers that you love me, too,
Here I am undressed, come and do your best,”
Cried poor little Angeline.
Now it won’t take long to finish this song,
For the blacksmith had a penis over one foot long,
And his phallic charm was as brawny as his arm,
Happy little Angeline.
REILLY’S DAUGHTER
Melody – Reilly’s Daughter
Sitting in old Reilly’s bar one day,
Drinking whiskey, passing water,
Suddenly a thought came to my mind,
I’d like to fuck old Reilly’s daughter.
CHORUS:
Giddy-I-A, giddy-I-O,
Giddy-I-A, for the one-eyed Reilly,
Rough ’em up, stuff’em up, balls and all,
Play it on your old bass drum.
Her hair was black, her eyes were blue,
The colonel, the major, and the captain sought her,
The regimental goat and drummer boy too,
But they never had a fuck with old Reilly’s daughter.
Lack O’Flanagan is my name,
I’m the king of copulation,
Drinking beer my claim to fame,
Fucking women my occupation.
Walking through the town one day,
Who should I meet but old Reilly’s daughter,
Never a word to her did say,
But, “Don’t you think we really oughter?”
Up the stairs and into bed,
There I cocked my left leg over,
Marianne was smiling then,
Smiling still when the fuck was over.
Fucked her till her tits were flat,
Filled her up with soapy water,
She won’t get away with that,
If she doesn’t have twins then she really oughter.
Suddenly footsteps on the stairs,
Old man Reilly bent on slaughter,
Bloody great pistol in his hand,
Looking for the one who fucked his daughter.
He fired the pistol at my head,
Missed me by an inch and a quarter,
Hit his daughter Marianne,
Right in the place where she passes water.
I grabbed old Reilly by the hair,
Shoved his head in a bucket of water,
Rammed his pistol up his ass,
A damn sight quicker than I fucked his daughter.
Old man Reilly’s dead and gone,
Shall we bury him? Not fucking likely,
We’ll nail him to the shithouse door,
And there we’ll bugger him twice nightly.
Come you virgins, maidens fair,
Answer me quick and true, not slyly,
Do you want it straight and square,
Or the way I gave it to one-eyed Reilly?
Marianne’s dead but not forgotten,
Let’s dig her up and fuck her rotten!
SALLY IN THE ALLEY
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/sally-in-the-alley/
Sally in the alley, sifting cinders,
Lifted up her leg and farted like a man,
Wind from her bloomers blew out six winders,
Cheeks of her ass went BAM! BAM! BAM!
THE SEAMSTRESS’ SONG
Melody – The Great Wheel
Written by Snake Charmer & Lady Finger of the Austin HHH, yet another variation of the Engineer’s Dream
A seamstress told me before she died,
Ah humm, titty-bum, titty-bum, titty, bum,
A seamstress told me before she died,
Ah humm, ah humm,
A seamstress told me before she died,
And I have no reason to believe she lied,
Ah humm, titty-bum, titty-bum, titty, bum,
Ah humm, titty-bum, titty-bum, titty, bum.
She had a spouse with a prick so wide (three times),
That it had to be magnified.
So she built a spinning wheel (three times),
Two balls of yarn and a needle of steel.
The balls of yarn she twisted tight (three times),
And the whole bloody thing was driven by might.
She tied him to the leg of the bed (three times),
Tied his hands above his head.
There he lay demanding a fuck (three times),
She shook his hand and wished him luck.
Round and round went the spinning wheel (three times),
In and out went the needle of steel.
Down and down went the level of yarn (three times),
Up and up went the prick she darned.
Till at last that husband cried (three times),
“Enough! Enough! I’m satisfied!”
Now we come to the tragic bit (three times),
There was no way of stopping it.
He was stretched from nose to bum (three times),
And the whole fucking room was covered in,
Sweet violets, sweeter than the roses,
Covered all over from nose to bum,
Covered all over with CUM! CUM! CUM!
SEVEN OLD LADIES
Melody – Oh My, What Can the Matter Be?
CHORUS:
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Seven old ladies locked in the lavat’ry,
They were there from Sunday to Saturd’y,
Nobody knew they were there.
They said they were going to have tea with the Vicar,
They went in together, they thought it was quicker,
But the lavat’ry door was a bit of a sticker,
And the Vicar had tea all alone.
The first was the wife of a deacon in Dover,
And thought she was known as a bit of a rover,
She liked it so much she thought she’d stay over,
And nobody knew she was there.
The next old lady was old Mrs. Bickle,
She found herself in a desperate pickle,
Shut in a pay booth, she hadn’t a nickel,
And nobody knew she was there.
The next was the Bishop of Chichester’s daughter,
She went in to pass some superfluous water,
She pulled on the chain and the rising tide caught her,
And nobody knew she was there.
The next old lady was Abigale Humphrey,
Who settled inside to make herself comfy,
And then she found out she could not get her bum free,
And nobody knew she was there.
The next old lady was Elizabeth Spender,
Who was doing all right till a vagrant suspender,
Got all twisted up in her feminine gender,
And nobody knew she was there.
The last was a lady named Jennifer Trim,
She only sat down on a personal whim,
But she somehow got pinched ‘twixt the cup and the brim,
And nobody knew she was there.
But another old lady was Mrs. McBligh,
Went in with a bottle of booze on the sly,
She jumped on the seat and fell in with a cry,
And nobody knew she was there.
SHE’LL BE PUFFIN’ LIKE A STEAM TRAIN WHEN SHE CUMS
Melody – She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain
She’ll be puffing like a steam train when she cums,
She’ll be puffing like a steam train when she cums,
She’ll be puffing like a steam train, puffing like a steam train,
She’ll be puffing like a steam train when she cums.
CHORUS:
Singing God, I’m coming, don’t stop now,
Singing God, I’m coming, don’t stop now,
Singing God, I’m coming, God I’m coming,
God, I’m coming, don’t stop now
OTHER VERSES:
She’ll be panting like a bulldog when she cums
She’ll be sucking like a Hoover when she cums
She’ll be scratching like a tiger when she cums
She’ll be biting like a vampire when she cums
She’ll be screaming like a banshee when she cums
She’ll be howling like a she-wolf when she cums
You’ll be dogknotted for an hour when she cums
She’ll nearly bite your cock off when she cums
She’ll close her legs and crush your face when she cums
She’ll be revving like a Harley when she cums
She’ll be whooping like a monkey when she cums
Etc.
SHE’S A MOST IMMORAL LADY
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
She wears her silk pajamas in the summer when it’s hot,
She wears her woolen nightie in the winter when it’s not,
But later in the springtime, and early in the fall,
She jumps between the lily-white sheets with nothing on at all.
CHORUS:
She’s a most immoral lady,
She’s a most immoral lady,
She’s a most immoral lady,
As she lay between the lily-white sheets with nothing on at all.
Oh, Sir Jasper do not touch me,
Oh, Sir Jasper do not touch me,
Oh, Sir Jasper do not touch me,
As she lay between the lily-white sheets with nothing on at all.
Oh, Sir Jasper do not touch! (three times)
Oh, Sir Jasper do not! (three times)
Oh, Sir Jasper do! (three times)
Oh, Sir Jasper! (three times)
Oh, Sir! (three times)
Oh! (three times)
SHORT SONG
Melody – Turkey in the Straw
Oh, the wiggle of her ass would make a dead man come,
And the nipple on her tit is as big as my thumb,
She’s a mean motherfucker, she’s a great cocksucker,
She’s my girl, she fucks!
SOMEONE’S IN THE KITCHEN WITH DINAH
Melody – Someone’s in the Kitchen with Dinah
Dinah, won’t you blow me,
Dinah, won’t you blow me,
Dinah, won’t you blow my horn?
Dinah, won’t you blow me,
Dinah, won’t you blow me,
Dinah, won’t you blow my horn?
Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah,
Someone’s in the kitchen, I know,
Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah,
Humpin’ like a dynamo.
(alternate verse)
Someone’s in my sister’s vagina,
Someone’s in my sister, I know,
Someone’s in my sister’s vagina,
Humpin’ like a dynamo.
SUCKANYA
Melody – Oh, Diana
I’m so young and you’re so old,
You’ve had a baby I’ve been told,
I don’t care what my friends say,
I’ll pay your bar fine any day,
You and I shall never part,
I’ll give you five hundred baht,
Oh please go down on me, Suckanya.
I bought you a house and brand new car,
In the Rock Hard you’re a star,
You go out late every night,
Come home at noon, oh, what a sight,
In your heart I’ll always stay,
As long as I can pay, pay, pay,
Oh please go down on me, Suckanya.
You gave me clap and you wear gold,
My motorcycle you have sold,
To pay my bills at Adam and Eve,
The fruits of love are never free,
All I ask is one more suck
But you don’t even give a fuck,
Oh please go down on me, Suckanya.
Your Thai husband threw me out,
Tell me what it’s all about,
Now you’re into sniffing glue,
Does this mean that we are through,
I love you with all my heart,
So don’t cut off my private part,
Oh please go down on me, Suckanya.
SWEET ANTOINETTE
Melody – Sweet Adeline
Sweet Antoinette,
Your pants are wet.
You say it’s sweat.
It’s piss, I bet.
In all my dreams,
Your bare ass gleams.
You’re the wrecker
Of my pecker,
Antoinette.
VANESSA PICKLEGIN
Melody – Vanessa Picklegin
Contributed by Abby Sale, courtesy of Ed Cray
Copyright Dr. Paul S Agutter 1996
One night to the bar I’d gone for a jar
And I’d drunk the barrel dry;
But the thoughts in me head were very far from bed
‘Till this harlot catched me eye.
She was withered and small, like a pickled walnut
Her bones had rubbed her sore,
Her teeth were in a box and she’d got the pox
And her age was fifty four.
CHORUS:
I’ve made very bold with young and old,
And I’ve fucked ’em thick and thin,
[audience response: Thick and thin.]
But I’ve never, never straddled a whore so addled
As Vanessa Picklegin.
Well, no one knows who soberly goes
To what depths man can sink,
How his brain is birled when he sees the world
Through the rose-colored specks of drink.
I gazed in her eye till beneath me fly
Me Y-fronts rapidly rose,
And the stand in hand grew so bloody grand
That it nearly blocked me nose.
So up comes she and she says to me,
“If you fancy a whore to screw,
I can take without fuss any doubledecker bus,
So I’ll readily deal with you!
For the average fool with the average tool
I charge an inordinate fee;
But since youve got a hard of more than a yard,
For you the admission’s free.”
So its back to her flat, and we slung out the cat,
And to bed without a word,
For she looked, and she felt, and she bloody nearly smelt
Like a week-old, whitewashed turd.
But I maintained that horn from night till morn,
And we fucked the dark hours through;
‘Till the bones went crack in the middle of her back
And Vanessa fell in two.
Now all you lads that drink ale, be cautioned by my tale,
For as I scrambled free,
I loudly wailed, for my prick was left impaled
On Vanessa’s vertibrae.
So, when you’re in the pub, the harlots snub,
Or you will surely find,
Though you may get away and not be asked to pay…
YOU’LL LEAVE A LOT BEHIND!
VULVA
Melody – Lola (the Kinks)
By Babe Thruster, Gulf Coast HHH
There’s lots of things I like about this magical world,
Like a good hash trail and a big cold mug of barley soda,
S-o-d-a, soda.
But there’s one thing that’s got me really obsessed,
the one thing on the planet that I love best, and that’s vulva,
V-u-l-va, vulva.
Now you can call it pussy, call it twat or muff,
Call it what you want, I just can’t get enough of that vulva,
Va-va-va-va-vulva, va-va-va-va-vulva.
Now I’ve seen a thousand in the magazines,
On the computer and the video screens,
Some are wild, some mild and tame,
But I’ve never seen two that looked just the same.
Now you might look and say it’s no big deal,
Looks like an axe wound that has not healed, oh that vulva,
Va-va-va-va-vulva, va-va-va-va-vulva.
A well trimmed bush,
Those pouting lips,
A playful clit,
It’s a wonderful sight,
It’s all I need to stay up all night!
If I had my way of how to spend my day,
I’d just stay at home in bed and play with a vulva,
Va-va-va-va-vulva.
I don’t understand how a guy can be gay,
But lesbians really have it made with two vulvas,
Va-va-va-va-vulva, va-va-va-va-vulva.
Well I’m not big on macho things,
Like sports and cars and political scenes,
Give me vulva and you’ve got my vote,
‘Cause I just wanna party with that man in the boat!
My dick is kinda average as penises go,
But I’ve got a tongue that can touch my nose . . . (visual)
And it loves vulva!
Va-va-va-va-vulva, Everybody! vulva,
Va-va-va-va-vulva, va-va-va-va-vulva (etc.)
WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL
Melody – Happy Wanderer
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
When I was a little girl, I had a little thing,
And if I tried, I could get, my little finger in.
Finger in, finger in, finger in,
Finger -i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i- finger in, finger in,
My little finger in!
I’ve grown into a woman now, my thing has lost its charm,
And I can get five fingers in, and half my fucking arm,
Fucking arm, fucking arm, fucking arm,
Fucking -a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a- fucking arm, fucking arm,
And half my fucking arm!
Now my age is ninety-two, and I’m half fucking dead,
Now I get both arms in and half my fucking head.
Fucking head, fucking head, fucking head,
Fucking -e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e- fucking head, fucking head,
And half my fucking head!
WHEN LADY JANE BECAME A TART
Melody – Those in Peril on the Sea
It fairly broke the family’s heart,
When Lady Jane became a tart,
But blood is blood and race is race,
And so to save the family face,
They bought her an expensive flat,
With “Welcome” written on the mat.
It was not long ere Lady Jane,
Brought her patrician charms to fame,
A clientele of sahibs pukka,
Who regularly came to fuck ‘er,
And it was whispered without malice,
She had a client from the Palace.
No one could nestle in her charms,
Unless he wore ancestral arms,
No one to her could gain an entry,
Unless he were of the landed gentry,
And so before her sun had set,
She’d worked her way through Debrett.
When Lady Anne became a whore,
It grieved the family even more,
But they felt they couldn’t do the same,
As they had done for Lady Jane,
So they bought her an exclusive beat,
On the shady side of Jermyn Street.
When Lord St. Clancy became a nancy,
It did not please the family’s fancy,
And so in order to protect him,
They did inscribe upon his rectum,
“All commoners must now drive steerage,
This fucking hole is reserved for peerage.”
THE WINNIPEG WHORE
Melody – Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking
My first trip up the Saginaw River,
My first trip to the Canadian shore,
There I met sweet Rosie O’Grady,
Better known as the Winnipeg Whore.
“Come right in, I’m glad to see you,
Slap your ass across my knee,
We will have some fun together,
Dollar and a half will be my fee.”
Some were dancin’, some were prancin’,
Some lay drunk on the barroom floor,
But there I was in the northeast corner,
Screwin’ hell out of the Winnipeg Whore.
Then, in there walked some sons ‘a’ bitches,
Must have been a score or more,
Oughta seen me shit my britches,
Slidin’ my ass out the whorehouse door.
YOU TAKE THE LEGS OFF BETTY GRABLE
Melody – ???
You take the legs off Betty Grable,
You take the hair from Myrna Loy,
You take the tits off old Jane Russell,
And the ass off a baby boy.
You take the hands and face off some old clock,
And brother, when you’re through,
The only thing that’s missing is the C-U-N-T,
And that, you sorry sack of shit, is YOU-U-U!
——————————————————————————–
FAMOUS HARRIERS
Alouette (harriettes’ version)
Balls of O’Leary
Barnacle Bill
Bastard King of England
Big Jess
Christopher Columbo (I)
Christopher Columbo (II)
Christopher Robin
Clint Meets the Gay Caballero
Clinton’s Queen Berets
Davy Cockhead
Do Ye Ken John Peel?
Drunken Sailor
Fireman’s Song
Fuck the Giant Penis
Gay Caballero
He’s a Blow-Up Doll
He’s a Cunt
Hitler, He Only Had One Ball
I’m Your Mailman
Inbred Man
Inside those Red Plush Breeches
Ivan Skavinsky Scavar
John Brown’s Penis
King of the Nerds
Large Balls
Legend of Chernobyl Sam
Lloyd George
Lumberjack Song
Men
Monk of Great Renown
Monk of Great Renown
Municipal Sewerageman
My Father
My Grandfather’s Cock
O-B-G-Y-N
Old King Cole
One-Eyed Riley
Pioneers
Please Do Not Tread on My Balls
Rajah of Astrakhan
Redneck Mother
Sammy Small
Scotsman’s Kilt
Tale of Young Freddie Bloor
Ted Kennedy
The Tinker
The Traveler
This Old Man
Three German Officers
Tiny Thing
Vicar In the Dockside Church
Vlad
Wanky Doodle
Yankee Doodle
Yu Wee Flung Lu Wee
ALOUETTE (HARRIETTES’ VERSION)
Melody – Alouette
(male volunteer needed)
CHORUS:
Alouette, gentille Alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.
Leader: Does he have the thinning hair?
Pack: Yes, he has the thinning hair,
Leader: Thinning hair
Pack: Thinning hair
Leader: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah, aah . . . (chorus)
Leader: Does he have the wrinkled brow?
Pack: Yes, he has the wrinkled brow.
Leader: Wrinkled brow,
Pack: Wrinked brow,
Leader: Thinning hair,
Pack: Thinning hair,
Leader: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah, aah . . . (chorus)
Roving eyes . . .
Crooked nose . . .
Lifeless tongue . . .
Double chin . . .
Hairy tits . . .
Big beer belly . . .
Big fat ass . . .
Tiny thing . . .
Rug-burned knees . . .
Smelly feet . . .
Leader: Now isn’t he a very nice guy?
Pack: Yes, he is a very nice guy,
Leader: Nice-a guy,
Pack: Nice-a guy,
All: Alouette! Aah, aah, aah, aah . . .
Chorus
How I love his (repeat all above . . .)
THE BALLS OF O’LEARY
Melody – The Bells of Saint Mary’s
The balls of O’Leary,
Are wrinkled and hairy,
They’re stately and shapely,
Like the dome of Saint Paul’s.
The women all muster,
To view that great cluster,
Oh, they stand and they stare,
At the bloody great pair,
Of O’Leary’s balls.
BARNACLE BILL
Melody – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APlSL_XRhd4
(falsetto)
Who’s that knocking at my door?
Who’s that knocking at my door?
Who’s that knocking at my door?
Cried the fair young maiden.
(bass)
It’s only me from across the sea,
Said Barnacle Bill the sailor.
It’s only me from across the sea,
Said Barnacle Bill the sailor.
Why are you knocking at my door?
‘Cos I’m young enough and ready and rough.
You can sleep upon the floor.
Oh get off the floor, you dirty old whore.
You can sleep upon the mat.
Oh bugger the mat, you can’t fuck that.
You can sleep on the stairs.
Oh bugger the stairs they ain’t got hairs.
You can sleep between my tits.
Oh bugger your tits, they give me the shits.
You can sleep between my thighs.
Oh bugger your thighs, they’re covered with flies.
You can sleep within my cunt.
Oh bugger your cunt, but I’ll fuck for a stunt.
What will we do when the baby’s born?
Oh we’ll drown the bugger and fuck for another.
THE BASTARD KING OF ENGLAND
Melody – The Irish Washerwoman
Oh, the minstrels sing of an English King,
Of many long years ago,
He ruled his land with an iron hand,
Though his mind was weak and slow.
He loved to hunt the royal stag,
Around the royal wood,
But better by far he loved to sit,
And pound the royal pud.
CHORUS:
He was lousy and dirty and covered in fleas,
The hair on his balls hung down to his knees,
God bless the bastard King of England.
Now the Queen of Spain was an amorous Jane,
And a sprightly wench was she,
She longed to fool with the royal tool,
From far across the sea.
So she sent a royal message,
With a royal messenger,
To invite the King of England down,
To spend the night with her.
Now Ol’ Philip of France he heard by chance,
Within his royal court,
And he swore, “She loves my rival best,
Because my tool is short.
I’ll give the Queen a dose of clap,
To pass it on to the bastard King of England.”
When news of this foul deed was heard,
Within the royal halls,
The King he swore by the royal whore,
He’d have the Frenchman’s balls,
He offered half the royal purse,
And a piece of Queen Hortense,
To any British subject,
Who would do the King of France.
So the noble duke of Middlesex,
He took himself to France,
He swore he was a fairy,
So the King let drop his pants,
Then on Philip’s dong he slipped a thong,
Leaped on his horse and galloped along,
Dragging the Frenchman back to merry old England.
When they returned to London town,
Within fair England’s shores,
Because of the ride King Philip’s pride,
Was stretched a yard or more,
And all the whores in silken drawers,
Came down to London town,
And shouted round the battlements,
“To hell with the British crown.”
And Philip alone usurped the throne,
His scepter was his royal bone,
With which he ditched the bastard King of England.
Rule, Britannia, marmalade and jam,
Five Chinese crackers up your asshole,
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
BIG JESS
Melody – Big Bad John (Jimmy Dean)
Parody by Billy C. Wirtz, contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material)
Every day at the Senate you could see him arrive
His age and I.Q. were both about sixty-five
Narrow in the mind and red in the neck
Nobody knew what the hell to expect from
Big Jess
Big Jess, biigg Jessss . . .
BIG BAD JESS!
Nobody really knew what made him so mean
Some said it might be a lack of sumpin’ in his genes
Some speculated that he’d been dropped on his head
Or that his family were Bakers and that they were a little inbred
Big Jess
The press and the critics all thought it mighty scary
That his butt was in D.C. and his mind in Mayberry
The press and the critics never bothered him a bit
But those hairy-legged feminists nearly made him shit
Big Jess
Big Jess, what a mess
BIG BAD JESS!
And then came the day in Hilton Head
When Jesse went swimmin’ and nearly ended up dead
A wave came along and knocked him sprawlin’
And dragged him out to sea screamin’ and ballin’
Big Jess
Jesse figured it was over and the devil was even
When along in a rowboat came a fellow named Steven
Jesse hollered, “Help me, help me! I’m Senator Jess!”
And he said, “You’re getting sunburn and your hair is a mess,
Big Jess”
And what happened next has never been explained clearly
You might say that Helms began to behave sorta queerly
He said, “You got it all wrong, I’m a misunderstood man,
And by the way Steven you’ve got a very savage tan.”
“Merci, Jess”
Steven threw Jesse a life preserver
And Jesse wondered how to explain it to the News and Observer
He said “You know Steven you’re a real good pal”
And that night they went dancing at the Capitol Corral
Big Jess
You can bet the Republicans made a hell of a noise
When Jesse admitted, “I’m one of the boys”
The folks in the Senate knew he was under the weather
When he appeared with pierced nipples and tight black leather
Big Jess
Jesse almost lost his life
But he got a new friend
He didn’t understand it at first
But he got it in the end
Big Jess
Big Jess, biigg Jessss . . .
BIG BAD JESS!
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBO (I)
Melody – Columbus Sailed the Ocean Blue
In Fourteen Hundred and Ninety-Two,
A schoolboy from It-aly,
Walked the streets of ancient Rome,
And jacked off in the alley.
CHORUS:
He knew the world was round, oh,
He knew it could be found, oh,
That mathematical, geographical,
Son of a bitch, Columbo.
Colombo went to the Queen of Spain,
And asked for ships and cargo,
He said he’d kiss the royal ass,
If he didn’t bring back Chicago.
Now three slick ships set out to sea,
Each one a double-decker,
The queen she waved her handkerchief,
Colombo waved his pecker.
The sailors on Columbo’s ship,
Had each his private knothole,
But Columbo was a superman,
And used a padded porthole.
Colombo came upon the deck,
His cock was like a flagpole,
He grabbed the bo’sun by the neck,
And shoved it up his asshole.
Columbo had a one-eyed cat,
He kept it in the cabin,
He rubbed its ass with axle grease,
And started in a-jabbin’.
Columbo had a first mate,
He loved him like a brother,
Every night in the pale moonlight
They buggered one another.
For forty days and forty nights,
They sailed the broad Atlantic.
Columbo and his scurvy crew,
For want of a piece were frantic.
They spied a whore upon the shore,
And off came shirts and collars,
In twenty minutes by the clock,
She’d made ten thousand dollars.
With a joyful shout they ran about,
And practiced fornication,
When they sailed they left behind,
Ten times the population.
And when his men pulled out again,
To take their homeward trip up,
They’d caught the pox from every box,
And syphilized all Europe.
Columbo went in haste to the Queen,
Because it was his duty,
He gave to her a dose of clap,
He had no other booty.
So she threw him in a stinking jail,
And left him there to grumble,
A ball and chain tied to his balls,
So ended poor Columbo.
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBO (II)
Melody – Columbus Sailed the Ocean Blue
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two
A man whose name was Chris
Stood by the Trevi fountain
Indulging in a piss.
CHORUS:
His balls they were so round-o
His cock hung to the ground-o
That fornicating, copulating
son-of-a-bitch Columbo.
Along did come the Queen of Spain
And glimpsing there his dong,
Forthwith was smitten with desire
And knew not right from wrong.
“Oh, Isabelle,” Columbo said,
A-waving of his balls,
“The world is round as these are,
I feel that duty calls.”
“Just wait a bit,” said Isabella.
“And don’t forget essentials,
For I’ve a mind to have a grind
And check on your credentials.”
She gave her guest no time for rest,
The pace was fairly killing,
With legs apart he gave the tart
A cream and cherry filling.
For forty days and forty nights
He sailed the broad Atlantic,
Columbo and his scurvy crew
For want of a screw were frantic.
And when they got to Yankee land
They spied a Yankee harlot
When they came her cunt was lily-white
When they left her cunt was scarlet.
With lustful shout they ran about
And practiced copulation
And when they left to sail away
They doubled the population.
And when his men pulled out again,
And reckoned all their score up,
They’d caught a pox from every box
That syphilized all Europe.
DAVY COCKHEAD
Melody – Davy Crockett
Down in the valley where the black grass grows,
There lives a lady without any clothes.
Along came a man with a cap and a stick,
Down went his pants, and up went his prick.
CHORUS:
Davy, Davy Cockhead,
King of the wild fuckers.
Three months past and all was well,
Six months past, oh, what a swell,
Nine months pass, oh, what a shock!
Out came a baby with a nine-inch cock.
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN
Melody – Christopher Robin
Little boy kneels at the foot of the stairs,
Clutched in his hands is a tuft of white hairs,
Oh, my, just fancy that,
Christopher Robin castrated the cat.
Little boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Lily-white hands are caressing his head,
Oh, my, couldn’t be worse,
Christopher Robin is fucking his nurse.
Little boy sits on the lavatory pan,
Gently caressing his little old man,
Flip flop, into the tank,
Christopher Robin is having a yank.
CLINT MEETS THE GAY CABALLERO
Melody – Itself
By King RongJohn, Gypsies in the Palace HHH, San Francisco; contributed by Tongueless, GPHHH (this song has nothing to do with “The Gay Caballero,” below)
Clint was a cowboy, he rode on the range,
When he came into town he would sing this refrain:
Key yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
I’ll gladly pay Tuesday for a blowjob today.
On Clint at the whorehouse the door was slammed shut,
His credit not good for a worm eaten slut.
Key yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
You cannot pay Tuesday for a blowjob today.
Into his saddle Clint dejectedly sank,
He sat on his horse and he started to wank.
Key yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
I cannot pay Tuesday for a blowjob today.
The Gay Caballero, his name was Latrell,
Rode in with a song that made Clint’s member swell.
Ke yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
You can pay me on Tuesday for a blowjob today.
For the Gay Caballero ol’ Clint was no match,
They found him sucked dry in a tumbleweed patch.
Key yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
Well the Gay Caballero won’t get paid Tuesday.
The moral is clear if you’re looking for it,
A blowjob on credit is worthless as shit.
Key yai yai yippie yai yai, key yai yai yippie ay,
That’s Clint meets the Gay Caballero, Ole!
CLINTON’S QUEEN BERETS
Melody – Ballad of the Green Berets
(reportedly written by White House HHH)
Falling fairies from the sky,
I broke a nail, Oh I could cry.
Don’t you like how my tush sways?
We are the fags of the Queen Berets.
Bill Clinton’s words upon my ears,
“You gays have rights, be proud my dears.”
I once was scared, now I’m okay,
Cause I’m a fag in the Queen Berets.
Put silver ear clips on my nuts,
I love pain, now spank my butt.
The way you walk is awfully cute,
I sure would like to pack your chute!
This Army stuff is really slick,
Free meals and clothes and lots of dicks.
When I retire, I still get paid,
We thank you, Bill, from the Queen Berets.
DO YE KEN JOHN PEEL?
Melody – Do Ye Ken John Peel
Contributed by Llewtrah
Do you ken John Peel, with his cock of steel,
And his balls of brass, and his corrugated arse?
Do you ken John Peel, with his cock of steel?
And it’s rusty as hell in the morning.
Do ye ken John Peel, yes I know the bugger well,
With a head on his hammer like the Inchcape bell.
Nine inches on the slack, twelve inches on the swell,
As he revels in the joys of copulation.
Do ye ken John Peel with his cock in a sling,
And his two brass balls going ting-a-ling-a-ling?
He’s lying in the grass with a carrot up his arse,
And he won’t take it out till the morning.
Variation:
Do ye ken John Peel, with his prick of steel,
And his balls of brass, and his celluloid arsehole?
Do ye ken John Peel, with his prick of steel?
And it all comes out in the morning.
DRUNKEN SAILOR
Melody – Drunken Sailor
What shall we do with the drunken sailor,
What shall we do with the drunken sailor,
What shall we do with the drunken sailor,
Earlye in the morning?
CHORUS:
Way, hey, and up she rises,
Way, hey, and up she rises,
Way, hey, and up she rises,
Earlye in the morning.
Put him to bed with the captain’s daughter (three times)
Earlye in the morning.
Hang him by the balls in a running bowline
Earlye in the morning.
Shave his crotch with a rusty razor
Earlye in the morning.
Shove a hosepipe up his arsehole
Earlye in the morning.
Tie his prick in a double half-hitch
Earlye in the morning.
That’s what we’ll do with the drunken sailor
Earlye in the morning.
FIREMAN’S SONG
Melody – Itself
Clang, clang, clang,
And the goddamn fire went out.
Oh for the life of a fireman,
To ride on a fire engine red,
To say to a team of white horses,
“Give me head, give me head, give me head!”
My father is a fireman,
He puts out fires.
My brother is a fireman,
He puts out fires.
My sister Sal is a fireman’s gal,
She puts out, too.
FUCK THE GIANT PENIS
Melody – Puff the Magic Dragon
Once a pure white virgin lived by the sea,
She frolicked o’er pastoral fields, her name Virginity,
A sweet young lass of just sixteen, a rosebud ripe and firm,
She wandered o’er the verdant hills, not knowing of the sperm.
Well, Fuck the giant penis lived not far away,
His cock was damn near two feet long; he poked one twice a day,
He was an Ivy Leaguer with vest and pinstriped suit,
He drove a roadster XKE, the sexed-up extrovert.
One day while he was reaming around the rural strips,
He spied her picking flowers there_that lass with swinging hips,
He jumped out of the driver’s seat and grabbed her by the ass,
He tore off all her clothing, and laid her in the grass.
Her maidenhead was busted, the ground ran bloodyred,
He poked her till the twilight came, then took her home to bed,
He poked her till the sun rose, she begged for more and more,
He turned that pure virginity into a God damned whore.
THE GAY CABALLERO
Melody – The Gay Caballero
Oh, I am a gay caballero,
Going from Rio de Janeiro,
With an exceedingly long latraballee,
And two fine latraballeros.
I went down to Tijuana,
Exceedingly fine Tijuana,
With my exceedingly long latraballee,
And my two fine latraballeros.
I met a gay senorita,
Exceedingly gay senorita,
She wanted to play with my latraballee,
And with one of my latraballeros.
Oh, now I’ve got the clapito,
Exceedingly painful clapito,
Right on the end of my latraballee,
And on one of my latraballeros.
I went to see a medico,
Exceedingly fine medico,
He looked at the end of my latraballee,
And at one of my latraballeros.
He took out a long stiletto,
Exceedingly long stiletto,
He cut off the end of my latraballee,
And one of my latraballeros.
And now I’m a sad caballero,
Returning to Rio de Janiero,
Minus the end of my latraballee,
And one of my latraballeros.
At night I lay on my pillow,
Seeking to finger my willow,
All I find there is a handful of hair,
And one dried-up latraballero.
HE’S A BLOW-UP DOLL
Melody – You’re Sixteen
by Rose Eh, Toronto HHH
He’s a blow-up doll
And his dick isn’t small
And he stays hard all the time.
He’s made of plastic
He’s got a big dick
And he’s mine.
I took him out to the hash
And oh what a blast
The bimbos were standing in line
He’s made of plastic
He’s got a big dick
And he’s mine.
I’m telling ya’ guys
It isn’t just size.
This man’s hard all the time.
He’s made of plastic
He’s got a big dick
And he’s mine.
HE’S A CUNT
Melody – ???
All mouth, no brains, this guy’s a pain,
You can scream and cuss,
He stuck his boot up your dog’s arse,
And licked your daughter’s puss,
He nicked your fags, drank your booze,
Tied fireworks to the cat,
Then he told the dole you were working,
Who is this fuckin twat?
CHORUS:
He’s a cunt, he’s a cunt,
He’s a C-U-N-T cunt,
With his broken teeth and his ugly face,
He’s a mental riddle that’s out of place,
He’ll sleep with your granny, bite her fanny,
Wears his trousers back to front,
And he farts, sucks cock,
And he’s riddled with pox,
‘Cause basically he’s a cunt.
He dyes his hair to match his clothes,
He smells like shit, he’d fill your nose,
With a small tattoo to prove he’s tough,
And an earring ’cause he’s a fuckin poof,
You’ve never heard of this human turd,
He’d be a pig if he could grunt,
And what’s more he talks bullshit,
‘Cause basically he’s a cunt.
He’s got spots and warts and blackheads too,
He doesn’t know a joke unless it’s blue,
The vicar’s daughter swears and cries,
He fucked her with a pack of lies,
You say you’ve never heard of this man,
Well you don’t have to hunt,
‘Cause it’s me, it’s me you bastards,
‘Cause basically I’m a cunt.
HITLER, HE ONLY HAD ONE BALL
Melody – Colonel Bogey March
Hitler, he only had one ball,
Goering, had two but very small,
Himmler, had something simmler,
But poor old Goebbels had no balls at all.
(Whistle melody for chorus)
Frankfurt, has only one beer hall,
Stuttgart, die maedchen all on call,
Munich, ve lift our tunich,
To show ve Chermens have no balls at all.
(Hasher’s name), is very short, not tall,
And blotto, for drinking Singha and Skol,
A Cherman, unlike (hasher’s name),
Because (hasher’s name) has no balls at all.
I’M YOUR MAILMAN
Melody – Blackbird, Bye Bye
Make me happy, make me gay,
I can come twice a day,
I’m your mailman.
Lift the knocker, ring the bell,
I can make you feel swell,
I’m your mailman.
I can come in any kind of weather,
Don’t you know my bags are made of leather?
I don’t mess with keys or locks,
I’ll slip it right in the box,
I’m your mailman.
INBRED MAN
Melody – Honey, Babe
Written by Barney & Derelict, Classic City HHH
Inbred Man, he’s our man
Inbred, inbred
Don’t matter if he’s kin or Klan
Inbred, inbred
Cunt or mouth or asshole too
Fuck you good that’s what he’ll do
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
Inbred Man had a sister once
Inbred, inbred
Fucked that bitch way up her cunt
Inbred, inbred
Fucked her good then she died
Cause his dick was laced with cyanide
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
Inbred Man he loses his truck
Inbred, inbred
But with his truck he does not fuck
Inbred, inbred
Under the hood is much better
Puts his lips around that header
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
Inbred Man went down to the creek
Inbred, inbred
Jacking on his big old dick
Inbred, inbred
Saw a girl, she look so neat
GOD DAMN, she’s got feet!
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
Inbred Man had a dog named Rover
Inbred, inbred
Inbred yelled, “Well, come on over”
Inbred, inbred
Inbred came and so did Rover
That’s more luck than a four-leaf clover
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
Inbred Man, he’s got this punk
Inbred, inbred
Boy, that kid smells like a skunk
Inbred, inbred
Took it out and shot it twice,
This song is over, ain’t that nice
Inbred, he’s an inbred.
INSIDE THOSE RED PLUSH BREECHES
Melody – ???
John Thomas was a servant tall,
The pride and joy of the servant’s hall,
Although he only had one ball,
Inside those red plush breeches.
CHORUS:
And he wore red plush breeches,
And he wore red plush breeches,
And he wore red plush breeches that kept John Thomas warm.
Out of all the servants at the servant’s post,
Mary was the one he loved the most.
And for her his ball would roast,
Inside those red plush breeches.
They went for a walk one moonlit night,
The stars were out and the moon was bright.
Things became extremely tight,
Inside those red plush breeches.
They found a stump to sit upon,
They found a stack to lay upon,
Next day Mary sewed buttons on,
That pair of red plush breeches.
Mary had an illegit,
It’s face looked like a piece of shit.
And every time she looked at it,
She cursed those red plush breeches.
Now Mary laid poor John a trap,
And he fell for it like a sap,
And now he’s got a dose of clap,
Inside those red plush breeches.
IVAN SKAVINSKY SCAVAR
Melody – Itself
The harems of Egypt are fine to behold,
The harlots the fairest of fair,
But the fairest of all was owned by a sheik,
Named Abdul Abulbul Emir.
A traveling brothel came down from the north,
’twas privately run for the Czar,
Who wagered a hundred no one could outshag,
Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
A day was arranged for the spectacle great,
A holiday proclaimed by the Czar,
And the streets were all lined with the harlots assigned,
To Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
All hairs they were shorn, no frenchies were worn,
And this suited Abdul by far,
And he quite set his mind on a fast action grind,
To beat Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
They met on the track with cocks at the slack,
A starter’s gun punctured the air,
They were both quick to rise, the crowd gaped at the size,
Of Abdul Abulbul Emir.
They worked all the night in the pale yellow light,
Old Abdul he revved like a car,
But he couldn’t compete with the slow steady beat,
Of Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
So Ivan he won and he shouldered his gun,
He bent down to polish the pair,
When something red hot up his back passage shot,
’twas Abdul Abulbul Emir.
The harlots turned green, the crowd shouted “Queen,”
They were ordered apart by the Czar,
’twas bloody bad luck for poor Abdul was stuck,
Up Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
The cream of the joke came when they broke,
’twas laughed at for years by the Czar,
For Abdul, the fool, left half of his tool,
Up Ivan Skavinsky Scavar.
JOHN BROWN’S PENIS
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
John Brown’s penis was a bloody awful sight,
Mucked about with gonorrhoea and buggered up with shite,
The agonies of syphilis kept him awake all night,
But he still went rogering along.
CHORUS:
Oh, the hoary old seducer,
Oh, the hoary old seducer,
Oh, the hoary old seducer,
He still went rogering along.
John Brown’s plonker it is turning puce and green,
It might just be infected or it could be the gangrene,
The tip is sprouting mushrooms such as are rarely seen,
But he still keeps rogering along.
It’s droopy and its dripping and it hangs down to his knees,
It’s suffering from the effects of unremitting sleaze,
The smell is quite revolting like a rotting Stilton cheese,
But he still keeps rogering along.
The color of his water it is sort of Amber Ale,
Little gonorrhoea germs within his scrotum play,
Despite these inconveniences, he goes on undismayed.
Yes he still went rogering along.
The docs all flock to see it and they can’t believe the sight,
He’s got a dozen poxes and it’s crusted up with shite,
The funguses are pretty and glow yellow in the night,
But he still keeps rogering along.
John Brown’s penis it would make a stallion proud,
Eleven inches in length and a good five inches round,
All the ladies loved it and they came from miles around,
So he still kept rogering along.
Bits are falling off of it the end’s gone blue and black,
With gonorrhoea and syphilis, chlamydia and clap,
And thrush, cystitis, herpes, but it didn’t hold him back,
And he still went rogering along.
They were a splendid vision, his great dipstick and balls,
But the red marks are crab-bites, not just lipstick on his tool,
One rotting bollock fell off and the other’s shrunk and small,
But he still keeps rogering along.
Girls would come from miles around to his Baronial Hall,
To see his giant penis and his one remaining ball,
And see the rows of maidenheads all hung around the wall,
But he still went rogering along.
KING OF THE NERDS
Melody – King of the Road
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material?)
Theorems to prove or not,
Differentials get me hot.
Got three advanced degrees,
I don’t pay no software fees.
I work hard on my code at nights,
My system’s fifty-million megabytes.
Don’t have much truck with words,
‘Cause I’m . . . King of the Nerds.
I know every engineer on every mainframe,
Each fileserver, and all of their names,
I know every BBS in every town,
And who to call for service when the system is down.
You know I watch Star Treck, TNG,
I follow Science Fiction Fantasy.
I read PC news for thrills,
I don’t have no social skills.
Ah, but cheap beer and take-out foods,
Get me lots of geeks in party moods.
Good grooming’s for the birds,
When you’re King of the Nerds.
And I’m King of the Nerds.
LARGE BALLS
Melody – ???
Miss Jones was walking down the street,
When a young fellow she happened to meet,
Was giving the girls a hell of a treat,
Twisting and turning his balls.
CHORUS:
But they were large balls, large balls,
Twice as heavy as lead (cha, cha),
And with two twists of his muscular wrists,
He threw them right over his head.
(Sera-aboom, sera-aboom, sera-aboom boom boom)
A policeman to the scene was called,
He said, “A lesson’ll have to be taught,
Because it’s certain that no one ought,
To be twisting and turning his balls.”
The prisoner standing in the dock,
He gave the judge a hell of a shock,
Insisting on showing the jury his cock,
And twisting and turning his balls.
The judge he said, “The case is clear,
The fine will be a pint of beer,
For any young bugger that comes in here,
Twisting and turning his balls.”
THE LEGEND OF CHERNOBYL SAM
Melody – Unknown
This is the sad legend of Chernobyl Sam
Who lived by a nuclear power facility,
And, when the tale began, was an ordinary man,
With ordinary abilities.
One dick and two balls, no more and no less,
That was what Sam had fitted
And with that tackle he felt blessed,
For his chums were all likewise fitted.
That was before Chernobyl went bang,
And leaked that radiation,
Life it changed for Chernobyl Sam,
Due to nuclear mutation.
He was out on his farm in a turnip field
Vigorously wielding his hoe,
Well all of a sudden he’d doubled his yield
Cos he’d felt something grow,
And there in his pants, to his surprise
Was not one dick, but two,
Well Sam he couldn’t believe his eyes,
It looked too good to be true.
It may be Chernobyl got me into this fix,
Said Sam with nary a frown,
He thought of the fun he could have with two dicks,
And he drove straight into town.
There he met Charlotte, the local harlot,
Chernobyl’s three-titted town whore,
Eyes wide with surprise, the girl went scarlet,
When he showed her his double bore.
“You’ve got quite a couple, so I must charge double,
If you do it with both,” she cried,
Sam gave her his roubles, he didn’t want trouble,
Dropped his pants and yelled “Open wide!”
Well it may be a sin, only one would go in,
There wasn’t room for the pair,
Those dicks were too thick, they should’ve been thin,
So he stuck the second elsewhere.
He thrust them in turns, till the friction burned,
And Charlotte cried “no more!”
One in the churn and one up the stern
Was too much for the doughty whore.
If you do double entry, you gotta go gently,
As all good accountants know,
So when she got dented around both entries,
She chucked him back out in the snow.
Now Chernobyl Sam felt twice a man,
As he checked on his two cocks with glee,
But his prideful glance down his underpants,
Showed him not two balls but three!
Those knackers hung low, they swung to and fro,
He could swing them onto his shoulder,
Tie them in a knot or tie them in a bow;
It made him feel much bolder.
There was no concealing the elation he was feeling,
As they reached to the floor when at rest,
He got a horny feeling as his bollocks hit the ceiling,
With two cocks and three balls he was blessed!
With a smile, not a frown, he went back into town,
With his balls tucked into one boot,
Another tart he found and threw her to the ground,
Took aim and prepared to shoot.
The whore took it all, that great double tool,
She wasn’t deterred by girth,
Like a demon fueled by his triple balls
Sam fucked for all he was worth,
He sighed in bliss as he came with a hiss,
And his balls hung down to his toes,
His old single dick not at all was missed,
As he shot her a double load,
He sighed in pleasure as he gave her full measure,
And a double stream of juice,
But after those endeavors he tripped over his treasure –
Those balls hanging low and loose.
For if you please, they’d wrapped round his knees,
Then round both ankles wound,
And when he tried to ease his testicles free,
He fell pole-axed to the ground.
Around both ankles were his balls entangled,
And he could not prise them free,
Or else he’d mangle those bollocks which dangled,
And maybe lose all three.
It’s sad to tell, how he tripped and fell,
And shuffled to the door,
Or how Sam felt as his balls began to swell,
In front of the laughing whore.
Chernobyl Sam swore at his great double bore,
At the balls on which he tripped,
They stretched then tore, in a gout of gore,
As the skin of his ball-bag ripped.
With no more fuel to power that tool,
In dismay Chernobyl Sam wept,
Leaving all three balls in a red bloody pool,
Back to his fields he crept.
Two balls and one dick, is enough to do the trick,
You don’t need anything more,
Be it thin or thick, be grateful for your prick,
And for balls which don’t hang to the floor.
But if you’re jealous tell me true, just what is the ruddy use
Of owning a double-barrel gun,
Mighty fine it may look, but it’s not good news,
If you’ve got no ammunition.
LLOYD GEORGE
Melody – Onward Christian Soldiers
Lloyd George knew my father, father knew Lloyd George;
Lloyd George knew my father, father knew Lloyd George;
Lloyd George knew my father, father knew Lloyd George;
Lloyd George knew my father, father knew Lloyd George;
(ad nauseam)
THE LUMBERJACK SONG
Melody – Itself
From Monty Python (copyrighted material)
I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay,
I sleep all night and I work all day.
CHORUS:
He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatory,
On Wednesdays I go shopping,
And have buttered scones for tea.
CHORUS:
He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,
He goes to the lavatory,
On Wednesdays he goes shopping,
Has buttered scones for tea.
He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers,
I put on womens’ clothing,
And hang around in bars.
CHORUS:
He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
He likes to press wild flowers,
He puts on womens’ clothing,
And hangs around in bars?
He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspendies and a bra,
I wish I’d been a girlie,
Just like my dear Pappa.
CHORUS:
He cuts down trees, he wears high heels?
Suspendies . . . and a bra?
. . . He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
. . . He’s a lumberjack and he’s okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
MEN
Melody – Itself
CHORUS (CONTINUOUSLY):
Men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men . . .
Oh, it’s fun to be on a ship with men,
And sail across the sea,
We don’t know where we’ll land, or when,
But still it’s fun to be,
On a ship with men at sea.
There’s men above and men below,
And men down in the galley.
There’s Butch and Spike,
And Tom and Sam,
And one that we call Sally,
One that we call Sally (effeminately).
Oh, we are brave and we are bold,
And none of us are sissies.
Each night we lay down in our bunks,
And blow each other kissies (effeminately).
THE MONK OF GREAT RENOWN (Two Versions)
VERSION # 1:
Melody: The Monk of Great Renown
There was a monk of great renown,
There was a monk of great renown,
There was a monk of great renown,
And then he fucked the girl from out of town,
Fucked the girl from out of town.
CHORUS (SHOUTED):
Ha, ha, ha,
Ho, ho, ho.
Horse shit.
That dirty old son of a bitch,
That rotten old cocksucker.
Fuck him.
He laid her on a downy bed,
He laid her on a downy bed,
He laid her on a downy bed,
And busted in her maidenhead.
He shoved it in until she died,
He shoved it in until she died,
He shoved it in until she died,
And then he fucked the other side.
He took her to the burial ground,
He took her to the burial ground,
He took her to the burial ground,
He thought he’d go another round.
The monk cried from grief and shame,
The monk cried from grief and shame,
The monk cried from grief and shame,
So he fucked her back to life again.
VERSION # 2
Melody – Barnacle Bill the Sailor (first part)
Melody – Ach Du Lieber, Augustin (second part)
There was an old monk of great renown,
There was an old monk of great renown,
There was an old monk of great renown,
And he fucked the women all over the town.
Chorus:
(spoken)
The sod, the dirty old sod,
The bastard deserves to die.
Have mercy on his soul.
Fuck him!
Glory, glory hallelujah.
(sung)
Balls to Mister Banglestein, Banglestein, Banglestein,
Balls to Mister Banglestein, dirty old sod.
For he keeps us all waiting while he’s masturbating
Balls to Mister Banglestein, dirty old sod.
The other monks cried out in shame,
The other monks cried out in shame,
The other monks cried out in shame,
So he turned around and he fucked them again.
The other monks grew tired of his frolics,
The other monks grew tired of his frolics,
The other monks grew tired of his frolics,
So they took a knife and they cut off his ballocks.
THE MUNICIPAL SEWERAGEMAN
Melody – Ghostriders in the Sky
The municipal sewerageman stood out upon the rim (‘pon the rim, ‘pon the rim),
The municipal sewerageman fell in and couldn’t swim (couldn’t swim, couldn’t swim),
He sank down to the bottom,
He sank down like a stone,
You could hear the maggots cryin’ out,
“You’re on your fuckin’ own.”
CHORUS:
Shitty-i-ayyy, Shitty-i-ohhh,
Ghost maggots in the overflow (overflow, overflow).
For six long days and weary nights he tried to stay afloat (stay afloat, stay afloat),
But every time he cried for help,
A turd caught in his throat (in his throat, in his throat),
He sank down to the bottom,
He sank down like a rock,
You could hear the maggots,
Munchin’ on his cock.
The moral of this story is if you should shovel shit (shovel shit, shovel shit),
Be careful of your footing,
Or you might end up in it (up in it, up in it),
You’ll sink down to the bottom,
You’ll sink down like a stone,
You’ll hear the maggots cryin’ out,
WHEEEE-AAAAAH-WHEEEE,
“You’re on your fuckin’ own.”
MY FATHER
Melody – Itself
Contributed by Hazukashii, Yongsan HHH
(take turns leading verses)
LEADER: Well, my father is an Army Colonel.
ALL: So what do you think about that?
He wears a colonel’s raincoat,
He wears a colonel’s hat,
He wears a colonel’s collar,
He wears a colonel’s shoes,
And when he gets home on Friday night . . .
LEADER: He plays with his privates.
ALL: And some day, if I can,
I’m gonna grow up just like my old man.
VERSES:
Confectioner . . . He packs fudge.
Organ Grinder . . . He spanks his monkey.
Farmer . . . He chokes his chicken.
Butcher . . . He plays with his meat.
Navy Captain . . . He inspects his seamen.
MY GRANDFATHER’S COCK
Melody – My Grandfather’s Clock
My grandfather’s cock was too long for his pants,
And it dragged several feet on the floor,
It was longer by half than the old man himself,
And it weighed near a hundredweight more.
He’d a horn on the morn of the day he was born,
It was always his pleasure and pride,
But it dropped, shrank, never to rise again,
When the old man died.
CHORUS:
Ninety years without cracking it,
What a cock! What a cock!
He spent his life whacking it,
What a cock! What a cock!
But it drooped, shrank, never to rise again,
When the old man died.
My grandfather’s cock was too long for his strides,
So he lent it to the woman next door,
She grabbed it by the point, and pulled it out of joint,
So he swore he’d never lend it anymore.
He’d a horn on the morn of the day he was born,
It was always his pleasure and pride,
But it drooped, shrank, never to rise again,
When the old man died.
O-B-G-Y-N
Melody – Unknown
Contributed by Hazukashii, Hasher at Large
There is a doctor in our town
A paragon of men
His specialty is known to some
As O-B-G-Y-N
His sense of touch is marvelous
He feels where he can’t see
He started at the bottom and
That’s where he’ll always be.
Chorus:
Well he’s open and candid
I can’t understand it and
So under handed is the O-B-G-Y-N
You’ll walk into his office
And suddenly feel fear
You know that you would rather be
Anywhere but here.
You try to keep him talking
But your effort he ignores
Then you see two legs high in the air
And realize their yours.
Chorus
You think he’d get enough of it
The thrill would soon be gone
But he works for the love of it
He fingers on and on.
He fly’s with gay abandon
Where secret sorrows lurk
But he likes to keep his hand in it
‘Cause he likes the inside work.
Chorus
He closes up his office
And homeward makes his way
His wife is there to greet him
And tell him of her day.
She says I feel romantic
I’d like one night of love
In absent-minded reflex
He pulls out his rubber glove.
Chorus
OLD KING COLE
Melody – Old King Cole
(Take turns leading verses)
Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he.
He called for his wife in the middle of the night,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Now every fiddler had a very fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he.
Fiddle-diddle-dee, diddle-dee, said the fiddlers,
Merry, merry men are we,
There’s none so fair that can compare,
With the boys of the HHH.
Leader: How’s your father?
Pack: ALL RIGHT!
Leader: How’s your mother?
Pack: SHE’S TIGHT!
Leader: How’s your sister?
Pack: SHE MIGHT!
Leader: When was the last time?
Pack: LAST NIGHT!
Leader: When is the next time?
Pack: TONIGHT!
Leader: How’s your arsehole?
Pack: FULL OF SHITE!
Old King Cole, etc . . .
And he called for his tailors three,
Now every tailor had a very fine needle,
And a very fine needle had he.
Stick it in and out, in and out, said the tailors,
Fiddle-diddle-dee, diddle-dee, said the fiddlers,
Merry, merry men are we, etc . . .
Jugglers three – two very fine balls.
Throw your balls in the air, said the jugglers.
Butchers three – a very fine chopper.
Put it on the block, chop it off, said the butchers.
Barmaids three – a very fine candle.
Pull it out, pull it out, said the barmaids.
Cyclists three – two very fine pedals.
Round and round, round and round, said the cyclists.
Flutists three – a very fine flute.
Root diddly-oot, diddly-oot, said the flutists.
Painters three – a very fine brush.
Wop it up and down, up and down, said the painters.
Horsemen three – a very fine saddle.
Ride it up and down, up and down, said the horsemen.
Carpenters three – a very fine hammer.
Bang away, bang away, bang away, said the carpenters.
Surgeons three – a very fine scalpel.
Cut it round the knob, make it throb, said thesurgeons.
Fishermen three – a very fine rod.
Mine is two feet long, two feet long, said the fishermen.
Huntsmen three – a very fine horn.
Wake up in the morn with a horn, said the huntsmen.
Coalmen three – a very fine sack.
Want it in the front or the back, said the coalmen.
Durmmers three – a very fine drum.
Thump it right up to the stump, said the drummers.
Axemen three – a very fine axe.
Chop it right back to the stump, said the axemen.
Parsons three – a very fine book.
Goodness, gracious me, said the parsons.
Ladies three – a very fine cat.
Come and pet my pussy, said the ladies.
Hashmen three – a very fine backcheck.
Run it back and forth, said the Hashmen.
THE PIONEERS
Melody – Son of a Gambolier
The pioneers have hairy ears,
They piss through leather britches,
They wipe their ass with broken glass,
Those tough old sons of bitches.
When cunt is rare, they fuck a bear,
They knife him if he snitches,
They knock their cocks against the rocks,
Those hardy sons of bitches.
They take their ass upon the grass,
In bushes or in ditches,
Their two-pound dinks are full of kinks,
Those rough-hewn sons of bitches.
Without remorse, they fuck a horse,
And beat him if he twitches,
Their two-foot pricks are full of nicks,
Those mean old sons of bitches.
To make a mule stand for the tool,
They beat him with hickory switches,
They use their pricks for walking sticks,
Those gnarled old sons of bitches.
Great joy they reap from cornholing sheep,
In barns, or bogs, or ditches,
Nor give a damn if it be a ram,
Those grimy sons of bitches.
They walk around, prick to the ground,
And kick it if it itches,
And if it throbs, they scratch it with cobs,
Those mighty sons of bitches.
PLEASE DO NOT TREAD ON MY BALLS
Melody – ???
Please do not tread on my balls,
Please do not tread on my balls.
I am aware that they hang too low,
Should have been cut off ten years ago.
I have what some people call,
Simply phenonenal balls,
So please do not tread on my balls, balls, balls, balls.
THE RAJAH OF ASTRAKHAN
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home
There was a Rajah of Astrakhan,
Yo ho, yo ho,
A most licentious fucking man,
Yo ho, yo ho,
Of wives he had a hundred and nine,
Including his favorite concubine,
Yo ho you buggers, yo ho you buggers,
Yo ho, yo ho, yo ho.
One day he had a hell of a stand,
He called to a warrior, one of his band,
“Go down to the harem in double time,
And bring me my favorite concubine.”
The warrior fetched the concubine,
A figure like Venus, a face divine,
The Rajah gave a significant grunt,
And rammed his penis up her cunt.
The Rajah’s cries were loud and long,
The maiden’s cries were sure and strong,
But just when all had come to a head,
They both fell through the fucking bed.
They hit the floor with a hell of a grunt,
Which completely buggered the poor girl’s cunt,
And as for the Rajah’s magnificent cock,
It never recovered from the shock.
There is a moral to this tale,
There is a moral to this tale,
If you would fuck a girl at all,
Stand her right up against the wall.
REDNECK MOTHER
Melody – Redneck Mother (copyrighted material)
He was born in Oklahoma,
His wife’s name is Betty Lou Thelma Liz,
And he’s not responsible for what he’s doin’,
His mama made him what he is.
CHORUS:
And it’s up against the wall, redneck mother,
Mother who has raised a son so well (so well, so well),
He’s 34, a drinkin’ in a honky tonk,
Just kickin’ hippie ass and raisin’ hell.
He sure does like his Shiner beer,
He likes to chase it down with Wild Turkey liquor,
He drives a ’67 Chevy pick-em-up truck,
He’s got a gun rack and a “Goat Ropers Need Love Too” sticker.
M is for the Mudflaps on my pick-em-up truck,
O is for the Oil I put on my hair,
T is for T-Bird,
H is for Haggard,
E is for Enema,
R is for REDNECK!
SAMMY SMALL
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/sammy-small/
Oh my name is Sammy Small, fuck ’em all,
Oh my name is Sammy Small, fuck ’em all,
Oh my name is Sammy Small, and I only have one ball,
But it’s better than none at all, so fuck ’em all.
Oh they say I shot a man, fuck ’em all, etc
They say I shot him in the head, with a fucking piece of lead,
Now the silly fucker’s dead, so fuck ’em all.
Oh they say I’m going to swing, fuck ’em all, etc
Oh, they say I’m going to swing, from a fucking piece of string,
What a silly fucking thing, so fuck ’em all.
Oh the parson he will come, fuck ’em all, etc
Oh the parson he will come, with his tales of kingdom come,
He can shove ’em up his bum, so fuck ’em all.
Oh the hangman wears a mask, fuck ’em all, etc
Oh the hangman wears a mask, for his silly fucking task,
What a silly fucking ass, so fuck ’em all.
Oh the sheriff’ll be there too, fuck ’em all, etc
Oh the sheriff’ll be there too, with his silly fucking crew,
They’ve got fuck-all else to do, so fuck ’em all.
(With reverence)
I saw Molly in the crowd, fuck ’em all, etc
I saw Molly in the crowd, and I felt so goddamn proud,
That I shouted right out loud, FUCK ‘EM ALL!
Oh the hangman pulled the rope, fuck ’em all, etc
Oh the hangman pulled the rope, though it was a fucking joke,
Now my goddamn neck is broke, so FUCK ‘EM ALL!
THE SCOTSMAN’S KILT
Melody – Itself
A traditional folk song, with some added verses
A Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair,
One could tell by how he walked that he’d drunk more than his share,
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet,
Then stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.
CHORUS:
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.
‘Bout that time two young and lovely girls just happened by,
One says to the other with a twinkle in her eye,
“See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built,
I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath their kilt?”
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath their kilt?
They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be,
Then lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see,
And there behold for them to view beneath his Scottish skirt,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth.
They marveled for a moment then one said “We’d best be gone,
But let’s leave a present for our friend before we move along.”
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow,
Around the bonnie spar the Scotman’s kilt did lifted show.
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
Around the bonnie spar the Scotman’s kilt did lifted show.
The Scotsman woke to nature’s call and stumbled toward the trees,
Behind a bush he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees,
Then in a startled voice he says to what’s before his eyes,
“Lad I don’t know where you’ve been but I see you won first prize.”
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
“Lad I don’t know where you’ve been but I see you won first prize.”
EXTRA VERSES:
Our Scottish friend still dreseed in kilt continued down the street,
He hadn’t gone ten yards or more, when a girl he chanced to meet.
She said, “I’ve heard what’s ‘neath that kilt, tell me is it so.”
He said, “Just put your hand up miss, if you’d really like to know.”
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
He said, “Just put your hand up miss, if you’d really like to know.”
She put her hand right up his kilt and much to her surprise,
The Scotsman smiled and a very strange look came into his eyes.
She said, “Why sir that’s gruesome,” and then she heard him roar,
“If you put your hand up once again you’ll find it grew some more.”
Ring ding diddle diddle i de o,
Ring di diddle i o,
“If you put your hand up once again you’ll find it grew some more.”
THE TALE OF YOUNG FREDDIE BLOOR
Melody – Unknown
This is the tale of young Freddie Bloor,
Whose sexual equipment got jammed in a door.
The firemen arrived on the scene, double quick
But alas were too late to save poor Freddie’s dick.
By the time they freed him he didn’t feel well
For his private parts were mangled to hell.
They rushed him to hospital, the ambulance flew
but when they arrived there was nowt they could do.
What a sad blow for Fred, condemned without choice,
To a life with no sex and a high squeaky voice,
But lucky for Fred, so he wouldn’t feel a fool
some bright spark suggested a bionic tool.
A bright new electric one made out of brass,
Though the batteries would have to be kept up his ass.
So newly equipped and after a rest,
Fred thought he would put his new tool to the test.
Finding a woman, the nearest one handy,
He piled her with drink and made her feel randy.
The girl without waiting, put her hand in his flies,
when she felt what was there gave a cry of surprise.
“That’s my bionic chopper, now let’s have some fun!”,
“Cor blimey!”, she said, “It feels like a gun!”
They both stripped off quick and Fred entered her fast,
and he turned up the speed knob and gave her full blast.
They clutched tight to each other as Fred’s dick shook some more,
Then they shook off the bed and rolled onto the floor.
Now the part hotted up and they started to choke
as the air in the room became filled with blue smoke.
With a bang Fred’s left bollock shot up in the air
Aand his other went plonkety plonk down the stair.
So back for repair went poor Fred, full of woe,
was this how his sex life was destined to go?
A return to the doctor at the end of each shag
With his prick in his pocket and his balls in a bag.
But they fixed young Fred up, made him manly again,
and they helped out the batteries with a flex for the main,
So if the batteries run out, it’s still quite alright,
Cos he’s now got a mains lead and can go it all night,
And if he can’t get a girl, lucky Fred doesn’t cry,
cos he’s now AC/DC and can go with a guy.
(The Further Adventures of Young Freddie Bloor)
Now this is the story of Fred’s girlfriend, Kelly.
Punk rocker, pink hair, six foot nine, fat and smelly.
But these delicate features all passed Fred straight by,
It was another, less subtle, that soon caught his eye.
The problem, you see, was the size of her chests.
The unfortunate Kelly had uneven breasts.
The right one was normal, size 36 D.
The left one hung down, to way past her knee.
But Fred did not mind; there was a glint in his eye.
As the unbalanced Kelly lurched carefully by.
He walked up beside her and, looking so cool,
Said “I’m Fred, good in bed, care to sample my tool?”
“My name is Kelly,” she said, with a smile,
Resting her boob on the ground for a while.
She knocked out her pipe on the side of his conk,
Said “Lets go to my place – we’ll have a quick bonk.”
They got onto bed and Fred undressed her quick,
And turned up the power on his electronic dick.
Then grabbing a handful of mammory gland,
Wrapped it twice round his neck like a huge rubber band.
Kelly, meanwhile, had nothing to hold.
Then she spied Freddy’s whopper, gleaming purple and gold.
With one hand she pushed Freddy flat on his back,
Got down on her knees, and prepared to attack.
But back at the hospital for a quick clean and fix,
The nurses had got all the plans in a mix.
And the doctor who wired it made a bad job,
So poor Kelly got 10,000 volts through her gob.
She gave a sharp cry and jumped back in pain,
And her left breast began to stretch, from the strain.
The whiplash pulled Fred from the bed to a chair,
And his face went all purple as he strugged for air.
As poor Fred did writhe with a gurgling sound,
Kelly was rather too quick to turn round.
And as he was plucked, with great force, from the chair,
He grabbed hold of Kelly by her pink spikey hair.
On landing, entangled, in a heap on the floor,
Fred unwrapped himself fast, and made for the door.
Straight down the stairs, out into the street,
With his puffed face bright red and his pants round his feet.
Yelled “Make no mistake,” his voice full of mourning,
“That bosom should carry a public health warning!”
“From now on I’ll stick to my first rule of thumb,”
“Any more than a handful, an’ you risk a sprained tongue!”
(Remote Control Freddie)
This is more of the tale of young Freddie Bloor
Whose sexual apparatus got lopped off by a door,
With his new bionic tool, young Fred got a life,
And in the fullness of time he had taken a wife.
Fred gave her a present and pledged her his soul,
And gave her the bionic dick’s remote control,
But alas for them both, Fred could not stay true,
Though he blamed his affairs on his bionic tool,
When he went out to parties and girls gave him a glance,
Bionic-tooled Fred couldn’t pass up the chance,
And within a few months of being decently wedded
Fred had lost count of the women he’d bedded.
At home his poor wife grew increasingly frantic
As she tried to put up with Fred’s sexual antics,
As Fred thrust away with his multi-speed dick,
She wanted revenge and she wanted it quick.
So one day she followed Fred to his love nest,
Where he was bonking his latest conquest.
Armed with his bionic dick’s remote control,
She twiddled the dial and turned it to full.
Like a great power drill the tool started to turn
At 500 rpm and caused friction burns,
The girl started screaming, eyes crossed in amazement,
As Fred’s tool rotated and throbbed and went crazy.
Fred tried to control it and tried to go slow,
All to no avail as the tip started to glow,
It shot him out of her, he crashed into the wall,
And hung there spread-eagled, held up by his tool.
It drilled into the plaster and then through the brick,
While Fred tried in vain to unfasten his dick,
Then it ground to a halt, it was embedded right in,
And face flat to the wall, Fred started to spin.
Just as he grew dizzy, his wife hit ‘reverse’,
At first Fred stopped spinning, but then things grew worse,
He shot away backwards, repelled from the wall,
By the pulsing and spinning of his mains powered tool;
He fell straight through the window and and onto the ground,
His tool ripped away with a terrible sound,
And after the doctors had patched him up whole,
They gave a dick without remote control.
The moral of Freddie’s tale is clear to all,
If you don’t want your wife to lead you round by your balls,
Then don’t shag every willing female you meet –
You’ll end up dickless like Freddie and out on the street!
(Freddie and the Bionic Clit)
This is the tale of Fred Bloor’s girlfriend Kit,
Who had silicon implants and a bionic clit,
Kit’s boyfriends all risked a most messy castration,
Organs ground to a pulp by excessive vibration,
As right in the midst of their sexual frolics
Kit’s luckless partners got trapped by their bollocks,
With their dicks mauled and mashed and turned into spam,
And their bollocks resembling balls of chopped ham,
Kit’s organ grinder left their manhoods all mangled,
Like half-chewed frankfurters, with catsup, they dangled,
When her bionic pussy reached its thundering orgasm
And chomped off their choppers as it went into wild spasms.
Then one night at a disco she met a young chap called Fred,
Whose mains-powered tool was more robust in bed,
They headed straight for the bedroom, they knew what to do,
As they plugged themselves in, and the sparks really flew.
The pace became frantic with no hazard of gelding,
Though the heat generated caused grave danger of welding,
But Kit’s pulsing pussy made Fred short-circuit that night.
And in the deep throes of their passion the mattress ignited.
Well out of control, the heat melted circuits and wires,
Their pubic hair singed, hissed and and smoked, and caught fire,
Would this happen each time Fred and Kit wanted a poke –
Pubes and mattress on fire and their room full of smoke?
Now the circuits were melting and screws had worked loose,
As through their mains flexes they drew so much juice,
That all through the city the lights dimmed and died,
As Fred and Kit’s bonking overloaded electric supplies.
First the step-up transformers at the power sub-stations,
Went critical, melted; then they burnt out the generators,
The doctors had failed to fit Fred’s dick with a fuse,
So now all round the city, power lines arced and blew.
Fred’s tool whined and went into critical overload,
Grew red hot, then white hot before it finally exploded,
His metal balls hit the ceiling and bounced off the wall,
And out through the roof went his jet-propelled tool,
Alas, it was welded to Kit’s bionic clit,
And so the poor woman blasted off into orbit.
Fred’s sex drive was in ashes and his tool circled Mars,
While his balls had blown away half of his ass;
And the only woman able to sustain Fred’s bionic pace,
Was still riding his dick as she floated through space.
So back to the hospital drove poor Freddie Bloor
To be stitched back together and supplied with a fuse.
(Epilogue)
We’ve all heard the tales of young Freddie Bloor,
Who suffered a dreadful mishap with a door,
In his prime one had severed poor Freddie Bloor’s prick,
But medical insurance bought a bionic dick.
There was a drawback with batteries – they quickly expired,
So they gave him a flex, to the mains he was wired,
But becoming entangled in ten feet of flex,
Gave a new meaning to the motto ‘safe sex’.
A punk rocker called Kelly took 10,000 volts,
While giving Fred head, and she got quite a jolt.
He blasted Kit into orbit when his prosthetic exploded,
She had a bionic pussy and Fred’s dick overloaded.
Now a small nuclear battery built into his dick,
Seems the ideal solution and powers his prick,
But sadly there is one small drawback for Fred,
Safe sex means wearing a condom made of lead!
TED KENNEDY SONG
Melody – Sing!
Oh, my mother is dead and my father is dead
And my brother is dead and my brother is dead
And my brother is dead and my kid has one leg
And I’m a drunk and my car doesn’t float.
THE TINKER
Melody – Ghostriders in the Sky
(Take turns leading verses)
The lady of the manor
Was dressing for the ball (for the ball, for the ball),
When she spied a tinker,
Pissing up against the wall (against the wall, against the wall).
CHORUS:
With his great big kidney wiper,
And his balls the size of three,
And a yard and a half of foreskin (fiveskin, sixskin)
Hanging down below his knees.
Syphil-I-O, syphil-I-A,
Muff divers in the sky.
The lady wrote a letter,
And in it she did say,
I’d rather be fucked by you sir,
Then his lordship any day.
The tinker got the letter,
And then it he did read,
His balls began to fester,
And his prick began to bleed.
He mounted on his donkey,
And he rode up to the strand,
His balls across his shoulders,
And his penis in his hand.
He rode up to the mansion,
He rode up to the hall,
The butler cried, “God save us!
He’s come to fuck us all!”
He fucked the cook in the kitchen,
He fucked the maid in the hall,
And then he fucked the butler,
The dirtiest trick of all.
And then he fucked the mistress,
In ten minutes she was dead.
With a yard and a half of foreskin,
Hanging round her head.
The tinker is now dead sir,
They say he’s gone to hell,
And there he fucks the devil,
I hope he fucks him well.
THE TRAVELER
Melody – The Traveler, or Our Goodman
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a hat upon the rack,
Where my hat ought to be.
So I said to my wife, the curse of my life,
“Explain this thing to me,
Whose is that hat on the rack,
Where my hat ought to be?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a sot can be,
That’s not a hat upon the rack,
But a chamberpot you see.”
Well, I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But a jerry with a hatband on,
I never saw before.
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a horse in the stable,
Where my horse ought to be.
So I said to my wife, the curse of my life,
“Explain this thing to me,
Whose is this horse in the stable,
Where my horse ought to be?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a cunt can be,
That’s not a horse in the stable,
But a milch cow you do see.”
Well, I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But a milch cow with a saddle on,
I never saw before.
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a head on the pillow,
Where my head ought to be.
So I said to my wife, the curse of my life,
“Explain this thing to me.
Whose is this head a-lying there,
Where my head ought to be?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a souse can be,
That’s not a head on the pillow,
But a football you do see.”
Well, I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But a football with a mustache on,
I never saw before.
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a cock inside my bed,
Where my cock ought to be.
So I said to my wife, the curse of my life,
“Explain this thing to me.
Whose is this cock a-standing there,
Where my cock ought to be?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a cunt can be,
That’s not a cock a-standing there,
But a carrot that you see.”
Well, I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But a carrot with ballocks on,
I never saw before.
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a stain on the counterpane,
And it didn’t come from me.
So I said to my wife, the curse of my life,
“Explain this thing to me.
Whose is this stain on the counterpane,
Which didn’t come from me?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a cunt can be,
That’s not a stain on the counterpane,
But some baby’s milk you see.”
Well, I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But baby’s milk that smelled like come,
I never saw before.
I came home on Saturday night,
As drunk as I could be,
And there was a woman inside my bed,
Where my dear wife should be.
So I said to this woman, who wasn’t bad-looking,
“Explain this thing to me.
Who are you, a-lying there,
Where my dear wife should be?”
“Oh, you’re drunk, you fool,
You silly old fool,
You’re drunk as a cunt can be.
This ain’t your house, I ain’t your wife,
You’re not living at all with me.”
Well I’ve traveled this wide world over,
Ten thousand miles or more,
It’s the fifth time that I’ve stuffed this bird,
She ain’t never complained before.
THIS OLD MAN
Melody – Knick Knack Paddy-Whack
This old man, he fucked one,
Don’t you know he had such fun,
CHORUS:
With a knick-knack paddy-whack,
He fucked his dog alone,
Fucked his dog and made him groan.
This old man, he fucked two,
A baby rabbit and a kangaroo
This old man, he fucked three,
Put up mirrors so he could see
This old man, he fucked four,
Three wasn’t enough so he bought a whore
This old man, he fucked five,
Two were dead and three alive
This old man, he fucked six,
Has his sister turning tricks
This old man, he fucked seven,
The youngest one was just eleven
This old man, he fucked eight,
One sucked him raw and it felt great
This old man, he fucked nine,
God, this orgy is just divine
This old man, he fucked ten,
All he could say was, “Do it again!”
This old man, he fucked eleven,
Died of V.D. and went to heaven,
With a knick-knack paddy-whack,
Now his dog’s alone,
No one left to make him groan.
THREE GERMAN OFFICERS
Melody – Mademoiselle from Armentieres
(Take turns leading verses)
Three German officers crossed the Rhine, parlez-vous.
Three German officers crossed the Rhine, parlez-vous.
Three German officers crossed the Rhine,
They fucked the women and drank the wine, inky dinky, parlez-vous.
They came upon a wayside inn, etc . . .
Shat on the mat and walked right in, etc . . .
Oh landlord have you a daughter fair,
With lily-white tits and golden hair?
Oh yes I do but she’s too young,
To sleep with a stinking German hun.
At last they got her on a bed,
Shagged her till her cheeks were red.
And then they took her to a shed,
Shagged her till she was nearly dead.
They took her down a shady lane,
Shagged her back to life again.
They shagged her up, they shagged her down,
They shagged her right around the town.
They shagged her in, they shagged her out,
They shagged her up her waterspout.
Seven months and all was well,
Eight months went and she began to swell.
Nine months went, she gave a grunt,
And a little Kraut bastard popped out of her cunt.
The little Kraut bugger he grew and grew,
He shagged his mother and sister too.
The little Kraut bugger he went to hell,
He shagged the Devil and his wife as well.
TINY THING
Melody – Happy Wanderer
By Catwoman, Dayton HHH
When he was a little tot
He found his ding a ling
And every night in his wee cot
He’d rub his tiny thing
Tiny thing,
Tiny thing,
He’d rub his tiny thing.
He’s older now
A man full grown
He thinks that he’s Tarzan
But when he lays his lady down
She calls him “Minute Man”
Minute Man,
Minute Man,
She calls him “Minute Man”.
He’s withered now,
He’s old and gray
His bone gives him the blues
It used to rise up with the day
Now it looks down at his shoes.
At his shoes,
At his shoes,
It looks down at his shoes.
VICAR IN THE DOCKSIDE CHURCH
Melody – The Vicar of Bray
The vicar in the dockside church,
One Sunday morning said,
“Some dirty bastard’s shat himself,
I’ll punch his fucking head.”
Well, up jumped Jock from the third row back,
And he spat a mighty go-o-ob,
“I’m the one who shat himself,
You can chew my fucking kno-o-ob,
You can chew my fucking knob.”
The organist played Hearts of Oak,
Mixed up with Auld Laung Syne,
The preacher then got up and said,
“You’ve had your fucking time.”
The organist waltzed down the aisle,
With his organ on his back,
Then up jumped Jock and hollered out,
“You can waltz that bastard ba-a-ck,
You can waltz that bastard back.”
Sweet Jenny Lynd got up to sing,
She warbled like a thrush,
The vicar from his pulpit said,
“By God you’re fucking lush.”
“That’s right,” said she, “but I’m not for free,
It’s thirty bob a ti-i-me.”
Then up jumped Jock and hollered out,
“Hands off, you bastards, she’s mi-i-ne,
Hands off, you bastards, she’s mine.”
VLAD
Melody – Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
Attributed to John “Dr. Dirt” Valby of upstate NY fame
CHORUS:
Eat, bite, fuck, suck, gobble, nibble, chew
Nipple, bosom, hair-pie, finger-fuck, screw.
Moose piss, cat pud, orangutan tit,
Sheep pussy, camel crack, pig lie in shit.
AW VLAD, AW VLAD.
Well, we went to a party and what did we do,
We took off our socks and we took off our shoes,
We took off our shirts and we took off our pants,
I had a hunch we weren’t gonna dance.
Chorus (faster)
Well, everybody everybody’s ass was bare,
No broads left just the queer over there,
All of this didn’t phase me a bit,
I just jumped on the pile and grabbed me some tit.
Chorus (faster)
Well you know my girl’s a sports fan,
She plays with balls whenever she can,
Because her favorite sport you see,
Is playing tonsil hockey.
Chorus (faster until only the fastest person is still singing)
WANKY DOODLE
Melody – Yankee Doodle
Dedicated to Aloha Hasher Wanky Doodle, composed by Bag Lady, October, 1994
Wanky Doodle went to bed,
A-wanking on his plumbing,
Took forever and a day,
Until he was a-cumin’.
Wanky Doodle, shake it up,
Wanky Doodle dandy,
Wanky Doodle, shake it up,
You are so very handy.
YANKEE DOODLE
Melody – I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy
Yank my doodle it’s a dandy,
Yank my doodle till I die,
Make that wiener shoot some fireworks,
Just like the Fourth of July.
I’ve got a Yankee Doodle boner,
I’ve had it since you rubbed my thigh,
So yank my doodle if you please.
That bulge is not a pony,
Just stick your fingers up my ass,
And stroke my macaroni.
Yank my doodle it’s so big,
Clearly it’s a dandy,
Stick that sucker in your mouth,
You’ll swear it tastes like candy.
Yank my doodle it’s a dandy,
Yank my doodle till I die,
Lick that lizard till it’s standing tall,
Right through my pubic hair.
If you like Yankee Doodle peckers,
I’ve got one that I can spare.
So yank my doodle till it cums,
Just point it toward your titties,
They say that stuff is beauty cream,
Let’s make your titties pretty.
Yank my doodle it’s so big,
Baby it’s a dandy,
Jerk that Turk and make it squirt,
And keep a Kleenex handy.
Yank my doodle it’s a dandy,
Yank my doodle till I die . . .
YU WEE FLUNG LU WEE
Melody – ???
Racism is no stranger to the hash, it seems . . .
Now Yu Wee Flung Lu Wee,
They say he can screw-ee,
Any girlie from Shanghai to Peking.
And to say what is mor-ee,
There isn’t a whor-ee,
That can start his Chop Suey a weeping.
Now Yu Wee went walk-ee,
With a boiling hot Stalk-ee,
And he see a sweet little lassie.
Sweet little lassie with burning hot chassis,
And he say “Ha ha ha,
I smell cunt-ee.”
Now he take her arm-ee,
No cause for alarm-ee,
She tell him her name is Hip Swing-ee.
She say “Come to my room-ee,
And tickle my womb-ee,
And make my tits go ting-a-ling-ee.”
Now I happen to know-ee,
That Yu Wee he go-ee,
For next day we he go to pee-ee,
He say, “Hey, something amiss-ee,
My cock be no piss-ee,
I think I have got the vee-d-ee.”
——————————————————————————–
IN VINO VERITAS
.079 (Seven Nine)
A Mouthful of Singha
Alcoholics’ Anthem
Breathalyzed
Bruces’ Philosophers Song
Dough, Ray, Me
Drink!
Give Me that Good Old Vino
Glorious, Victorious (Beer, Beer, Beer)
Have Another Please
History of Beer
I Drank a Beer
I Love Beer
I Want a Beer
Let’s Have a Party
More Beer
O Holy Beer
Old Pacific Sea
One Evening in October
Pissed
Pub With No Beer
Rye Whiskey
Salvation Army Song
Save the Beer
Shiner Beer
Singha Cock
.079 (SEVEN NINE)
Melody – Jingle Bells
By Shitshaper
A hash in Guadalupe,
We hit about five bars,
Then we went to Elmer’s
But it was pretty far.
My seatbelts they are broke,
This the cops did see,
They stopped me in the parking lot,
Oh, man I gotta pee.
CHORUS:
Seven-Nine, Seven-Nine,
I am not in jail,
Seven-Nine, Seven-Nine,
Thank god I didn’t fail.
He came to the window,
Thought he’d take a look,
Smelled a little alcohol,
And that was all it took.
They gave a drunk test,
Which I sure did pass,
Then they had me breathalyzed,
So they could fry my ass.
Chorus
The limit is Eight-Ohhh,
I think I am gonna cry,
But when the reading came
Back, it was Seven-Nine.
The cops they let me go,
My course from then was clear,
I’m going in that fuckin’ bar,
And drink a lot BEER!
Final Chorus
Seven-Nine, Seven-Nine,
I am not in jail,
Seven-Nine, Seven-Nine,
(slowly)
‘Cause who would pay my bail!
A MOUTHFUL OF SINGHA
Melody – A Spoonful of Sugar
CHORUS:
Just a mouthful of Singha makes the jism go down,
The jism go down, the jism go down,
Just a mouthful of Singha makes the jism go down,
In the most delightful way.
A young girl feathering her nest,
Has very little time to rest,
She must make each and every short time count,
And though she’d like to go to bed,
She knows she must give head,
But she knows a swig,
Will help it slide down quick.
He didn’t want to be a boy,
That’s why he is now a katoey,
Preying on drunken tourists late at night,
And though his rear end isn’t funny,
He knows he’ll make his money,
Giving head on the beach,
With something to stop that retch.
A young man trying to get along,
Had better not do any wrong,
If he wants to make chief on a western boat,
And though he’s bought the boss some drink,
And tipped his wife the wink,
He’ll find in the end,
He’s still sucking a bell-end.
A young wife won’t get very far,
If she can’t get that brand new car,
But hubby, the old miser, won’t give in,
But she knows she’ll soon have those keys,
As she gets down on her knees,
You shouldn’t drink and drive,
But with jism it’s all right.
ALCOHOLIC’S ANTHEM
Melody – Men of Harlech
What’s the use of drinking tea,
Indulging in sobriety,
And teetotal perversity?
It’s healthier to booze.
What’s the use of milk and water?
These are drinks that never oughter,
Be allowed in any quarter.
Come on, lose your blues,
Mix yourself a shandy,
Drown yourself in brandy,
Sherry sweet,
Or whisky neat,
Or any kind of liquor that is handy.
There’s no blinking sense in drinking,
Anything that doesn’t make you stinking,
There’s no happiness like sinking,
Blotto to the floor.
Put an end to all frustration,
Drinking may be your salvation,
End it all in dissipation,
Rotten to the core.
Aberrations metabolic,
Ceilings that are hyperbolic,
There are for the alcoholic,
Lying on the floor.
Vodka for the arty,
Gin to make you hearty,
Lemonade was only made,
For drinking if your mother’s at the party,
Steer clear of home-made beer,
And anything that isn’t labeled clear,
There is nothing else to fear,
Bottom’s up, my boys.
BREATHALYZED
Melody – Yesterday (Beatles)
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Breathalyzed,
Crystals turning green before my eyes.
I can hardly realize, that I have just been breathalyzed.
Suddenly,
There’s a policeman standing over me.
I’d like to punch him but he’s six foot three,
And I would like to stay alive.
He said, We’d like to test your blood for alcohol
I said, Go away, you’ll get nothing, Dracula.
Reality,
Five hundred milligrams per 100 mils.
Now they reckon, I’m a mobile still,
and I have to be penalized.
Custody,
When they took me to the local mick,
I’ve never seen a policeman move so quick,
But not as quick, as I got sick
Misery,
And the judge says I must join A A
And take the bus for 60 days.
Oh, why did I get breathalized?
BRUCES’ PHILOSOPHERS SONG
Melody – Itself
From Monty Python (copyrighted material)
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable.
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel.
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.
There’s nothing Neitszche couldn’t teach ya
‘Bout the raising of the wrist,
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away,
Half a crate of whiskey every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
Hobbes was fond of his dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart,
“I drink, therefore I am.”
Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed,
A lovely little thinker,
But a bugger when he’s pissed.
DOUGH, RAY, ME
Melody – Do, Re, Mi (Sound of Music)
Contributed by Tracy Murphy
Dough, the stuff, that buys me beer,
Ray, the guy who serves me beer,
Me, the guy, who drinks me beer,
Fa, a long way to the john,
So, I’ll have another beer,
La, I’ll have another beer,
Tea, no thanks I’ll have a beer,
And that brings us back to,
Dough . . . (etc)
DRINK
Melody – Sing!
Drink
Drink the beer
Belch out loud
Belch out strong
Drink of good times not bad
Drink of plenty not one.
Drink
Drink the beer
Down it quick to make it through the song
Don’t worry that it’s not good enough
For anyone else to down
Just drink
Drink the beer
Burp, burp, burp, burp, burp, etc . . .
D.U.I.
Melody – Jingle Bells
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4, and attributed to Pittsburgh resident Bob Blevins
Suckin down a beer
Feelin’ pretty loose
Just killed off a fifth
We’re running out of booze.
I got Grandmas’ keys
Lets go for a ride
What fun it is
To get so stinkin’ drunk that you can’t drive!
Oh! DUI, DUI, life is just a game.
Oh what fun it is to ride in someone elses’ lane.
Oh! DUI, DUI, throw up on the dash.
We’d go to the liquor store but we ain’t got no cash!
Sliding ’round the curve
In Grandma’s Cadillac.
She won’t even notice
If we don’t bring it back (She’s old!).
Look at all the sparks
Flashin’ from the side.
That gaurd rail sure is close
I think we’re gonna die!
Oh! DUI, DUI, fearless guys are we.
Someone roll the window down, I really gotta pee.
Oh! DUI, DUI, ride up on the curb.
Hit that asshole on the sidewalk, it’s too late to swerve!
Riding through the town
Running every light
And if we find some Arabs
We’re gonna start a fight (That’s right!).
We would stop for breakfast
But we just hit a truck.
Grandma’s got insurance
So we don’t give a *BELCH!*
Oh! DUI, DUI, cops are on our ass.
Watch me push ’em off the road as they begin to pass.
Oh! DUI, DUI, now we’re goin’ to jail.
(slowly)
Someone better call Grandma
So she can
post . . .
our . . .
bail!
GIVE ME THAT GOOD OLD VINO
Melody – Itself
I like my gin – it helps me get in,
But give me that good old vino.
I like my vino,
It gives me a stand supremo.
CHORUS:
Aye, yi-yi-yi,
Si, si, senora,
My seester Belinda she pissed out the winder,
And filled my brand new sombrero.
I like my Shiner – nothing could be finer,
But give me my . . .
OTHER VERSES:
I like my brandy – it makes me feel randy
I like my Anker – it helps me wank-a
I like my stout – it helps me get out
I like my martini – it’s good for the weenie
I like my rum – it helps me come
I like my coke-a – it helps me poke-a
I like my beer – it helps gonorrhea
I like my wine – it stiffens the vine
I like my port – it helps me disport
I like my claret – it stiffens the carrot
I like my liquor – it makes me come quicker
I like my schnapps – it helps cure the clap
I like my Foster – it helps me accost her
I like my Sam Adams – it gives me orgasms
I don’t like my Schlitz – it gives me the shits
I don’t like my Bud – it softens the pud
I don’t like my Zima – it gives me eczema
I don’t like my Coors – it tastes like old sewers
I like my cider – it helps me fit inside her
I like my lager – it helps me feel larger
I like my whisky – it makes me feel frisky
I don’t like light beer – it makes me queer
I like my champers – it helps fill my pampers
I like my Jack Daniels – it helps me fuck spaniels
I like my Mateus – it makes women loose
GLORIOUS, VICTORIOUS (BEER, BEER, BEER)
Melody – Itself
Beer, beer, beer, beer
Beer, beer, beer, beer
Drunk last night,
Drunk the night before,
Gonna get drunk tonight,
Like I’ve never been drunk before,
Cause when I’m drunk I’m as happy as can be,
Cause we’re all part of the Hash House family.
Oh the Hash Family
Is the best family
To ever
Come over
From Old Germany.
There’s the High Hash Drunks
There’s the Low Hash Drunks
There’s the Asian Drunks
And the other damn drunks.
CHORUS:
Singing glorius,
Victorious!
Hey!!!
One keg of beer for the four of us.
Singing Glory be to God that there are no more of us,
Cause one of us could drink it all alone
Damn near, pass the beer, to the rear, of the Hash House Harriers!
(sung to “If You Wanna go to Heaven Clap Your Hands”)
There are no serious Hashers by the Bay (by the Bay),
There are no serious Hashers by the Bay (by the Bay),
‘Cause they’re all a bunch of queers
Who get drunk on half a beer
There are no serious Hashers by the Bay!
There are no serious Hashers in L. A.,
There are no serious Hashers in L. A.,
Because the smog blocks out the sun
And they don’t know how to run
There are no serious Hashers in L. A.!
There are no serious Hashers in New York,
There are no serious Hashers in New York,
‘Cause they talk like Donald Duck
And they don’t know how to fuck
There are no serious Hashers in New York!
There are no serious Hashers in F. L. A.,
There are no serious Hashers in F. L. A.,
Because they all wear string bikinis
And the guys have little wienies
There are no serious Hashers in F. L. A.!
Oh there are no female Hashers in the Rockies,
Oh there are no female Hashers in the Rockies,
Cause when they’re running through the trees
Their tits are at their knees
Oh there are no Female hashers in the Rockies!
There are no serious Hashers in the Navy,
There are no serious Hashers in the Navy,
Because they’re all on little boats
Making love to sheep and goats
There are no serious Hashers in the Navy!
Oh there are no honest Hashers in D. C.,
Oh there are no honest Hashers in D. C.,
Cause they’re taking all our money
While they’re fucking our sweet honies
Oh there are no honest Hashers in D. C.!
There are no serious Hashers in K. Y.,
There are no serious Hashers in K. Y.,
‘Cause they’re all a bunch of hicks
Who are playing with their pricks
There are no serious Hashers in K. Y.!
There are no serious Hashers in Calgary,
There are no serious Hashers in Calgary,
‘Cause they’ll wade through waist deep snow
Just to give a cow a blow
There are no serious Hashers in Calgary!
There are no serious Hashers from the South,
There are no serious Hashers from the South,
With their necks of crimson red
And their cousins they will wed
It’s a sure sign that they are all inbred!
There are no serious Hashers in Milwaukee,
There are no serious Hashers in Milwaukee,
‘Cause the men all ride on Hogs
And the women howl like dogs
There are no serious Hashers in Milwaukee!
HAVE ANOTHER PLEASE: THE MURREE BEER SONG
Melody – Itself
We must leave this club of ours
In another week or two
Where we spent so many hours
Drinking murree’s famous brew
CHORUS:
Have another please,
Only three rupees,
Warm and weak and no too clear,
There is nothing like Murree Beer
From the crystal springs of murree,
From the cooling waters flow,
Fragrance fresh from last night’s curry
Donkey, goat and buffalo
Think before you have another
Of the places its been through
Its been passed by somebody or other
Long before it gets to you
Our new club is so expensive,
We can’t pay, we wish we could
Everything is so expensive
But the beer is just as good
Have another please,
Only five rupees,
Warm and weak,
And not too clear
There’s nothing like a Murree Beer!
THE HISTORY OF BEER
Melody – ???
Oh, a long time ago way back in history,
When all people had to drink were little cups of tea,
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mops,
And he invented a wonderful drink.
He gave it the name of slops.
CHORUS:
Oh, he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king,
And to his praises, we will always sing,
Look what he has done for us,
He’s filled us all with cheer,
Here’s to Charlie Mops, the man who invented BEER!
Oh, the Ah Soo, the New Wah Seng, the Sing Tong Lam as well,
Wherever you may drink, it’s Charlie’s slops they sell.
So raise your stein and drink your fill,
At half-past one it stops,
For five small seconds, remember Charlie Mops.
A-ONE, A-TWO, A-THREE, FOUR, FIVE!
(repeat chorus)
I DRANK A BEER
Melody – I Kissed a Girl, by Katy Perry
Contributed by Chewbacca
I drank a beer and I liked it, The taste of the hops on my lips. I drank a beer just to try it, I hope my liver don’t mind it. It felt so wrong, It felt so right, Don’t mean I’ll get drunk tonight. I drank a beer and I liked it, (pause like the end of the song) And I liked it!
I LOVE BEER
Melody – Barney Theme Song
Composed by Cockshot, Corpus Christi HHH
Biro-wu ai suru (I love Beer),
Nonde iru toki shiawase (When I drink I am happy),
Oishii awa awa biru (Tasty bubbly beer),
Anata ni kanpai suru (Cheers to you).
I love Beer,
Can’t you see?
When I drink I am happy!
Pale Ale, Dark Lager, tasty foamy brew,
I lift my glass and drink to you!
I WANT A BEER
Melody – I Want a Girl Just Like the Girl That Married Dear Old Dad
I want a beer, just like the beer
That pickled dear old dad.
It was a beer, and the only beer that Daddy ever had.
A real old-fashioned beer with lots of foam;
It took six men to carry Daddy home,
Oh, I want a beer, just like the beer that wiped out my old man.
LET’S HAVE A PARTY
Melody – Money Makes the World Go Around
CHORUS:
Parties make the world go around,
The world go around, the world go around,
Parties make the world go around,
Let’s have a party!
We’re gonna tear down the bar! BOO!
We’re gonna build a new bar! RAY!
One inch deep! BOO!
Two miles long! RAY!
Soda’s goinna be five dollars a glass! BOO!
Whiskey’s gonna be free! RAY!
We’re gonna dump the beer in the pool! BOO!
Then we’re all going swimming! RAY!
There’ll be no bartenders at our bar! BOO!
Only barmaids! RAY!
In long dresses! BOO!
Made of cellophane! RAY!
You can’t take our girls to your rooms! BOO!
Our girls’ll take you to their rooms! RAY!
But you can’t sleep with our girls! BOO!
Our girls won’t let you sleep! RAY!
No fuckin’ on the dancin’ floor! BOO!
And no dancin’ on the fuckin’ floor! RAY!
MORE BEER
Melody – Amazing Grace
By Spaceman, Buffalo HHH
CHORUS:
A nice cold beer, How sweet it sounds.
To save a drunk like me.
(stop, drink a beer, catch your breath and resume)
I finished 1, but I’m not done,
More beer, More beer, More beer.
I love my wife, I love my beer.
But if I had to choose.
My dear old wife, who I love with my life,
Would most undoubtedly lose.
(CHORUS)
I finished off 2, but I’m not through,
More beer, More beer, More beer.
I love my truck, I love my beer
But if I had to choose,
I’d sell my 4X4, Of which I do adore.
For beer I’d walk to the store.
(CHORUS)
I finished off 3, now I have to pee
More beer, More beer, More beer.
I love to fuck, I love my beer
but If I had to choose
It’s beer for me, unless her pussy,
tastes like more beer, more beer.
(CHORUS)
I finished off 4, but still want more,
More beer, More beer, More beer.
I love my dog, I love my beer,
but if I had to choose,
I sell my pet, to the vet,
A dog for beer more beer.
(CHORUS)
I finished off 5, I’m still alive,
More beer, More beer, More beer.
I love my MOM, I love my beer
but If I had to choose,
That drunken whore, It’s me she bore,
Still I choose more beer more beer.
(CHORUS)
I finished off 6, I’ve had my fix, (Or: “still need my fix”…to con’t song!)
Now you all must drink more beer.
(More verses from Nature Boy, Cleveland H4)
I love my house, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
My house might might burn down, But I could still pound
More beer, more beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 7, not yet to 11
More beer, more beer, more beer
I love my guns, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
If my aim is bad, then I’m still glad
To have more beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 8, it’s not to late
To drink more beer, more beer
I love fishing, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
If I lost my line, I wouldn’t whine
I’d drink more beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 9, I’m feeling fine
More beer, more beer, more beer
I love NASCAR, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
If I lost the race, I’d get shit-faced
More beer, more beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 10, Don’t know when to say when
More beer, more beer, more beer
I love my porch, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
My rocking chair, won’t always be there
So I count on beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 11, but I’m still getting
More beer, more beer, more beer
I love my tools, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
If my power-drill exploded, I’d go get loaded
On beer, more beer, more beer
(CHORUS)
I just had 12, from off my shelf
More beer, more beer, more beer
As you can tell, I love my beer
I’m such a drunk, you see?
When I fall down, you can drink my next round
More beer, more beer, more beer!!
(Additional verses by Annabelle)
I love the Queen, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
The royal family I’d slaughter, for wheat, hops and water
More beer more beer more beer
I love my husband, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
I’d take half his money, and say goodbye honey
More beer more beer more beer
I love my car, I love my beer
But if I had to choose
I’d dump my car, In Exeter (or, and head to the bar)
More beer more beer more beer
O HOLY BEER
Melody – O Holy Night
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
O holy Beer!
The hops, the yeast, the barley,
Combined as one we drink you joyfully.
O holy Beer!
Our thirst is overwhelming!
We need you soon! O, are we close to thee?
You are our hope through miles of thorn and PO,
And when we’re done, we’ll let the cold beer flow.
Fall on your knees,
And sing to ale and lager!
O be-er divine! O beer, O beer divine!
O beer di-vine! O-O beer, O beer divine!
THE OLD PACIFIC SEA
Melody – ???
I was down by Bondi Pier,
Sucking tubes of ice cold beer,
With a bucket full of prawns upon my knee.
When I swallowed the last prawn,
I had a Technicolor yawn,
And I chundered in the old Pacific Sea.
CHORUS:
Drink it up, drink it up,
Crack another dozen tubes or so with me.
If you want to blow your voice,
Mate, you’ve got no other choice,
But to chunder in the old Pacific Sea.
I was down by the great surf,
When a mate of mine called Murph,
Asked if he could crack a tube or three with me.
Well, he barely swallowed it,
When he went for the big spit,
And he chundered in the old Pacific Sea.
CHORUS:
I’ve had liquid laughs in bars,
I’ve chundered from moving cars,
And I’ve chundered where and when it pleases me.
But if I could choose the spot,
To regurgitate the lot,
Then I’d chunder in the old Pacific Sea.
ONE EVENING IN OCTOBER
Poem by Benjamin Hapgood Burt
One evening in October, when I was one-third sober,
An’ taking home a “load” with manly pride;
My poor feet began to stutter, so I lay down in the gutter,
And a pig came up an’ lay down by my side;
Then we sang “It’s all fair weather when good fellows get together,”
Till a lady passing by was heard to say:
“You can tell a man who ‘boozes’ by the company he chooses”
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.
PISSED
Melody – My Way (Frank Sinatra)
By Neptunus, The Hague HHH
And now, the beer is near
And so I’ll face the golden fluid
My friend, I’ll say it clear
Without the beer, I wouldn’t be here
I’ve tried low alcohol beer
But then I’ve been on every highway
But more, much more than this
I didn’t get pissed
Regrets, I’ve had so many
So then again, back to the real booze
I’ll do what hashers do
And carry this load on my shoulders
I’ll drink each brand of beer
Until it makes me feel quite queer
But more, much more than this, I like to be pissed
Yes there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I drank more than I should do
But thru it all, even be-ing sick
I drank it all and spit it out
I faced the toilet
And I stood tall
And regretted be-ing pissed
I laughed, but then I cried
Because there isn’t any beer left
And now, I realize
I didn’t find it so amusing
To think, I drank all that
And may I say, “Not in a shy way”
Oh no, oh not me, I want to be pissed
For what is a hasher
Without a beer
If there is none
Then he stays sober
He’ll say the things he truly feels
And not the slime, just to get laid
The harriettes know and make sure
A harrier stays pissed.
THE PUB WITH NO BEER
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike?
CHORUS:
It’s a bastard away from the women and all,
With a pain in the guts from a great lover’s ball,
But there’s nothing so lonely, shocking, or queer,
Than to knock off a barmaid that’s got gonorrhoea.
The publican’s anxious for the chemist to come,
He’s looking with lust at the barmaid’s big bum,
He’s waiting to give her a belt up the back,
But without a French letter he might get the jack.
The stockman rides in with a masterly stroke,
Takes the pants off her and gives a poke,
The look on his face quickly turns into fear,
When the barmaid informs him he just got gonorrhoea.
The swaggie tramps in undoing his fly,
He says, “Give me a poke or I’ll shoot in your eye.”
The stockman jumps up and says, “Don’t do it, mate.”
But the swaggie says sadly, “It’s too bloody late.”
Billy the blacksmith, the first time in his life,
Goes home for a roger with his darling wife,
As he walks in the bedroom, she says with a sneer,
“Without a Frenchie, you’ll get nothin’ here.”
There’s a dog on the verandah, still sufferin’ from shock,
He’s just seen the size of old Billy’s cock,
He dashes for cover and cringes in fear,
Billy’s sure to root something; I’m movin’ from here!
RYE WHISKEY
Melody – Rye Whiskey
Rye whiskey, rye whiskey,
Rye whiskey, I cry.
If I don’t get rye whiskey,
I surely will die.
If the ocean were whiskey,
And I were a duck,
I’d swim to the bottom,
And drink my way up.
Sometimes I drink whiskey,
Sometimes I drink gin,
It doesn’t really matter,
The state that I’m in.
Sometimes I drink whiskey,
Sometimes I drink rum,
I only do that,
When I want to come.
SALVATION ARMY SONG
Melody – The Song of the Temperance Union
(Last verse by Flying Booger)
We’re coming, we’re coming,
Our brave little band,
On the right side of justice,
We’ll all take a stand.
We don’t smoke tobacco because we all think,
That people who smoke are likely to drink.
CHORUS:
Away, away with rum by gum,
With rum by gum, with rum by gum,
Away, away with rum by gum,
The song of the Salvation Army.
Rum chug-a-lug, rum chug-a-lug, rum bum bum.
We never eat fruit cake,
Cause fruit cake has rum,
And one little bite turns a man to a bum.
Oh, can you imagine a sorrier sight,
Than a man eating fruit cake until he is light?
We never eat cookies,
Cause cookies have yeast,
And one little bite turns a man to a beast.
Oh, can you imagine a greater disgrace,
Than a man in the gutter with crumbs on his face?
There’s Viceroy cigarettes for people who think,
And Ban deodorant for people who stink,
But thinking and stinking are not right by me,
I get my kicks from Saigon tea.
We never eat candy, ’cause candy has brandy,
And brandy is known to make a drunk randy.
Oh, can you imagine a sight more disgustin’,
Than a sot in the gutter with his loins a-thrustin’?
SAVE THE BEER
Melody – Ghost Riders in the Sky
A netter 40 footer left from Cleveland Friday night,
Chuggin out to Puddin Bay, where they would spend the night,
When the captain stocked the boat up his intentions had been clear,
450 cases of Old Milwaukee beer.
Before they even left the flats the sky was looking bad,
And when the gale began to blow the captain told his lads,
Down below I’ve piled and stocked an awful lot of brew,
And if we should go down tonight, this is what to do.
CHORUS: Save the beer lads, save the beer! Whatever you do tonight, you save the beer! Lake Erie’s got us in her grip, but Puddin Bay is near, We may be going down but save the beer!
The storm it blew it’s hardest just three miles from the docks,
They heard a mighty crash below as if they’d hit some rocks,
But it was just the cases smashing holes down below,
Letting in Lake Erie as they hurdled to and frow.
The captain crawled across the deck and no one knew quite how,
He fell into the water as a wave crashed on the bow,
The crew was in a quandary but they thought of what he’d said,
They could have saved the captain but they saved the beer instead.
As the boat was sinking they found timbers from the pier,
They lashed them all together and loaded up the beer,
By then the storm was over that had caused the boat to sink,
They may have lost the captain but they had the beer to drink.
They drifted for an hour or two when something caught their eye,
Four waitresses from Hooters whose boat had sunk nearby,
Their shirts were torn and hanging as they bobbed in the swell,
Now they had some women and lots of beer as well.
But when the Hooters waitresses had climbed aboard the craft,
The extra weight from silicone began to swamp the raft,
The crew was in a quandary, and they had a choice to make,
Four bodacious ladies or beer thrown in the lake. . .
The women’s chest were heaving, as they began to cry,
They got down on their knees and said, “We’ll do anything for you guys!”
Their wet T-shirts were tempting, but still the choice was clear,
They said, “Throw back the waitresses, by God let’s save the beer!”
SHINER BEER
Melody – ???
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4, probably composed by Austin hashers
In the town of Shiner in the Lone Star State,
They’re brewing a beer that tastes really great,
Makes me want to masturbate.
Oh, I love Shiner Beer,
Grab yourself a fist of lard,
Work it up nice and hard,
Shoot your jism ‘cross the yard.
Oh, I love Shiner Beer.
Mmm, mmm, mmm, tastes so good,
Yes, yes, yes, like I knew it would,
Take advice from this old corner,
It don’t matter if you’re a loner,
Go ahead and cop that boner,
If you got Shiner Beer.
All you ladies everywhere,
Hold onto your underwear,
Shiner makes you lose your cares,
Oh, I love Shiner Beer.
Mmm, mmm, mmm, tastes so good
Yes, yes, yes, like I knew it would,
(slowly)
Shiner, the best beer brewed in the cunt-tree.
SINGHA COCK
Melody – Those Were the Days
Once there was a time that we’d fuck all night,
Now any more than once a month, no way,
I’m always asking for a little extra,
But you shy away and say, “Oh, not today.”
CHORUS:
‘Cause you’ve got Singha cock,
Some girls have all the luck,
They get it day and night for weeks on end,
But you won’t look at me,
It’s really sad to see,
What that limp Singha cock has done to me.
I used to worry about another woman,
Who was taking you away from me,
But then I learned the cause of your deflation,
Wasn’t someone else sat on your knee.
CHORUS: It was that Singha cock, etc . . .
So boys as you swig upon that bottle,
Please remember what we have to say,
If you want to play when you go home horny,
Push that one last bottle out of the way.
CHORUS: Or you’ll get Singha cock, etc . . .
——————————————————————————–
HASH HOLIDAYS
And so this is Christmas
And so this is Hashmas
Bad King Hashmas
Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire
Chipmunks Redeux
Christmas Carol
Deck the Halls
Eddie the Horny Reindeer
End of the World
Fellatio Navidad
Good King Bateson
Hallelujah Chorus
Hark! The Hashing Horn
Have an Erection
Here’s the Season
His Nuts
Holiday Song
I Caught Three Hares
I Saw Three Dots
I Want a Keg of Murphy’s Stout for Christmas
I’m Dreaming of a Right Christmas
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Syphilis
Jingle Balls (I)
Jingle Balls (II)
Jingle Balls (III)
Let it Glow
Merry Hashmas
Monster Hash
Next Thanksgiving
Night of the Full Moon
Nine Daze of Christmas
Oh Everclear
Oh Kennedy
Oh Toilet Bowl
Ozzy the Red Nosed Hasher
Politically Correct Santa
Restroom Door Said “Gentlemen”
Rudolph the Red Knobbed Reindeer
Rusty Car
Santa Claus Is Coming to Town
Santa Limericks
Satanic Bells
Silent Night
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
Twelve Days of Christmas (I)
Twelve Days of Christmas (II)
Twelve Redneck Days of Christmas
Walkin’ Round in Womens’ Underwear
We Three Kings
We Three Queens
We Wish You a Drunken Christmas
While the Kiwis Shagged
Whips and Chains
White Hashmas
Winter Wonderland
Wonder Where I Am
Yass, Yass, Yass
AND SO THIS IS CHRISTMAS
Melody – And So This is Christmas
Composed by Tongueless, Gypsies in the Palace HHH
And so this Christmas,
That time of the year,
When everyone’s drinking,
Gin, whiskey, and beer.
And so this is Christmas,
You know what they say,
The very best present,
Would be a good lay.
And so this is Christmas,
September will bring,
Another new bastard,
To join us and sing.
(repeat)
AND SO THIS IS HASHMAS
Melody – And So This is Christmas
And so this is Hashmas,
And a happy new year,
Get in a drunk punch-up,
And get socked in the ear.
AARH-AARH-AARH-AARH
(holding ear)
And so this is Hashmas,
With a wink and a leer,
Let’s eat too much turkey,
And drink lots of beer.
AARH-AARH-AARH-AARH
(holding gut)
And so this is Hashmas,
No need to look glum,
We’ll drink too much whiskey,
And fall on our bum.
AARH-AARH-AARH-AARH
(holding bum)
And so this is Hashmas,
What a load of old crap,
Let’s put it up your bottom,
And come on your back.
OOOH-AARH-OOOH-AARH (demonstrating)
BAD KING HASHMAS
Melody – Good King Wenceslas
Bad King Hashmas spent the lot,
On some horse called Steven,
Was the bloke out to lunch or what,
The odds weren’t nearly even,
Now that all the beer money’s spent,
Life will seem quite cruel,
Might as well go home to the wife,
And send the kids to school.
CHIPMUNKS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE
Melody – The Christmas Song (Nat King Cole)
(contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4)
Chipmunks roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost ripping up your nose,
Yuletide carolers being thrown in the fire,
And folks dressed up like buffaloes.
Everybody knows a turkey slaughtered in the snow,
Helps to make the season right,
Tiny tots with their eyes all gouged out,
Will find it hard to see tonight.
They know that Santa’s on his way,
He’s loaded lots of guns and bullets on his sleigh,
And every mother’s child is sure to spy,
To see if reindeer really scream when they die.
And so I’m offering this simple phrase,
To kids from one to ninety-two,
Although it’s been said many times, many ways,
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
Screw you.
CHIPMUNKS REDEUX
Melody – The Christmas Song (Nat King Cole)
Contributed by Derek Cashman
Chipmunks roasting on an open fire,
Their eyes bulge out and then explode,
Machine gun fire opens up on the crowd,
And folks fall down like dominos.
Everybody knows, an Uzi and some hand grenades,
Help to make the season bright.
Tiny tots, bound and gagged in their beds,
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.
They know that Santa’s on his way,
He’s got a chainsaw, and he’s gonna make them pay,
And every mother’s child is gonna spy,
To watch their daddy shoot them reindeer from the sky.
And so I’m offering this simple phrase,
For by now, the tots are turning blue,
Although it’s been said many times, many ways,
Merry Christmas . . . to you.
CHRISTMAS CAROL
Melody – Silent Night
Sodomy, masturbate, fellatio, copulate,
Round the world and Hershey highway,
Fornicating in the hay,
These are tricks that I lo-ove
These are tricks that I love.
Condom, prophylactic,
Spermicide does the trick.
IUD’s and birth control pills,
Pull it out and let it spill,
These will make it sa-afe,
These will make it safe.
DECK THE HALLS
Melody – Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly
The politically correct version, contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Deck the halls with boughs of non-endangered plant species,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
‘Tis the season to be self-actualizing,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Don we now our alternate-lifestyle apparel,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Toll the ancient non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday carol,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
See the blazing log of non-denominational-winter-
solstice-holiday-non-endangered wood before us,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Play the harp without unnecessary brutality and join the chorus,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Sing we emotionally stable in a collective group effort,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
Heedless of the weather patterns despite the effects of global warming,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Fast away the mature year passes,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Hail the new year without any implicit ageism, ye persons,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Dance in a non-hierarchical manner in merry measure,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
While I tell of non-materialistic, non-denominational- winter-solstice-holiday treasure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
EDDIE THE HORNY REINDEER
Melody – Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Contributed by Tree Humper
Eddie the horny reindeer
Used to love the reindeer snatch.
You would always find him looking
Searchin’ every bush and thatch.
All of the other reindeer
Used to love to get a lay.
But Eddie the horny reindeer
Had to have it every day.
Then one foggy Christmas eve
Santa came to say,
Sorry Ed to be so blunt
But if you don’t eat pussy, you’ll get no cunt.
Now all the reindeer love him
And you’ll hear them shout with glee.
Eddie the horny reindeer
Won’t you please go down on me?
END OF THE WORLD
Melody – Joy to the World
Contributed by Derek Cashman
End of the world,
The bomb has come,
Let earth receive her due,
Let every single reprobate,
Evaporate, disintegrate,
And buildings crumble too,
All over me and you,
All over, all over,
Rush Limbaugh, too.
FELLATIO NAVIDAD
Melody – Feliz Navidad
By Hookie Pookie, Orange County HHH
Chorus:
Fellatio Navidad
Fellatio Navidad
Fellatio Navidad
If you sit on my face, I’ll sit on yours
Fellatio Navidad
Fellatio Navidad
Fellatio Navidad
If you sit on my face, I’ll sit on yours
I wish you’d suck on my great big fat dick
I wish you’d suck on my great big fat dick
I wish you’d suck on my great big fat dick
From the bottom of my heart
(Chorus)
I’ll go down on your furry pink snatch
I’ll go down on your furry pink snatch
I’ll go down on your furry pink snatch
If you promise not to fart
(Chorus)
GOOD KING BATESON
Melody – Good King Wenseslas
By Richard Applebee, Barbados HHH
Good King Bateson last looked out
From his Kentish tower
When the dots lay round about
Deep and thick the flour.
Brightly shone his nose that night,
From his endless trekking
When John Clooney came in sight
For the on-on che – e – cking
‘Hither Farnum, stand by me
If thou knowst it telling
Yonder hasher, who is he
What on earth’s he yelling?
‘Sire, he checks a good league hence
For at least an hour.
He got here he knows not whence
Looking for more flou-our.’
‘Get my cloak and find the horn
Fetch me June Clarke hither
Thou and I shalt see him gorn
Ere he gets far thither’
Rob, June, Sandra, forth they went
Forth they went together
Through D. Russels wild lament
And the torrid we – e – ather.
‘Sire the flour grows thinner now
And John Clooney’s runnin’
We need Banks, and know not how
We will find the ON-IN.’
‘Mark the arrows, good my folk
Follow them most nearly.
Thou wilt find that Zeddy’s smoke
Shows the way quite cle-e-arly.’
In the RA’s steps they trod
Seeking faith requited.
Demonstrandum erat quod
Soon the bar was sighted.
Therefore hashers all rejoice
Keep ye to the trai-ail.
Ye who join the BHHH
Will discover a -a -le!
HALLELUJAH CHORUS
Melody – Hallelujah Chorus
Eat my butt out
Eat my butt out
Eat my butt out, eat my butt out
Eat my butt out.
Please lick my sweaty balls,
They’re so dirty
They’re so dirty, they’re so dirty
They’re so dirty, they’re so dirty.
Please eat my crusty ass,
It’s so mushy
It’s so mushy, it’s so mushy
It’s so mushy, it’s so mushy.
HARK! THE HASHING HORN
Melody – Hark the Herald Angels Sing
By Richard Applebee, Barbados HHH
Hark! the hashing horn has go-one
Half past three, we’re almost ON.
Let the dots be near, not fa-ar
So we’re soon back at the bar.
Save us from the back-checks vi-ile
Make them no more than a mi-ile
Curs_d he who cuts it short
His a-attempts will come to nought.
For the RA then will pour
Beer on his head for ever more.
Hail, the splendid Trollop shir-irt
Once again on Patti pert
Make sure that you don’t put bla-ack
EVER on a virgin’s back.
Don’t forget to call the 0-0N
When you see three dots have go-one
Or – and that’s the end of it
You ar-are bound to be the shit
Punish crimes most hein- e-ous
Give good beer and runs to us.
To the BHHH be th – a – nks
Glory to its love of Banks!
Bless_d be our sweaty fee-eet
And our love of Cockspur neat.
Joyful let the down-downs rei-eign
On the head of O’Neill Pa-ayne
Vivat hashers, ever 0N
Till the-e final dot has gone.
Hark! The barbecue is free
Glory-y to the BHHH
HAVE AN ERECTION
Melody – Hava Nageela
Composed for the Aloha HHH’s 1995 Passover Hash by Rich “Occupied” Stone
Have an erection,
Have an erection,
Any direction,
It will point.
Can’t get no infection,
‘Cause we use protection,
It’s called deflection,
Into your mouth.
CHORUS:
Swallow the protein drink,
Don’t spit it in the sink,
It will energize and
Clear your skin.
Make sure you open wide,
So it don’t dribble down the side,
Now you can be untied,
For more religious games.
Don’t have no matzoh,
Ain’t got no kreplah,
Can still eat, you betcha,
From the bush.
Gefilte fish, she’s tasty,
Knows how to waste me,
Takes me all in places,
You would not believe.
CHORUS:
Not even chicken soup,
Could save this sorry group,
You can run but you cannot hide,
Eventually you will imbibe.
Let us take religious rest,
Fill our mugs with the best,
And drink it down, down, down . . .
HERE’S THE SEASON
Melody – Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly
Here’s the season to be greedy,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
Eat until you feel quite seedy,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
Lots of beer and food and lollies,
Tra-la-la, la-la-la, la, la la,
In the morning you’ll be sorry,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la.
We always put up our Christmas stocking,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
Santa might give us something to cock in,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
Last year he said he wouldn’t come round here,
Tra-la-la, la-la-la, la, la la,
Some bastard stuffed it up his reindeer,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la.
Get the maid under the mistletoe,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
If the wife sees you’ll soon know,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la,
Is that what they mean by sticky pudd’n,
Tra-la-la, la-la-la, la, la la,
Serves you right if you get dripping,
Tra-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la.
HIS NUTS
Melody – Chestnuts Roasting by an Open Fire
Contributed by Tree Humper
His nuts roasting on an open fire
Someone’s fireplace was lit.
Santa’s in pain so he’ll have to refrain
From delivering all his gifts tonight.
We know that Santa’s going home
From high o’erhead we can hear his groans.
Take your gun out of the rack and take aim
In the hope that we can end poor Santa’s pain.
Darn we missed!
We know that Santa’s really pissed off now
What’s that dropping from his sleigh?
It looks like a bomb, oh no it’s napalm
Oh well fuck ‘m if he can’t take a joke.
HOLIDAY SONG
Melody – Let it Snow
Well, the weather outside is frightful,
But my dick is so delightful,
If you really want to see it grow,
Give it a blow, give it a blow, give it a blow.
I CAUGHT THREE HARES
Melody – I Saw Three Ships
By Flying Booger
I caught three hares on Christmas day,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
I caught three hares on Christmas day,
On Christmas day in the mornin’.
And what were they all covered with?
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
And what were they all covered with?
On Christmas day in the mornin’.
Oh they had flour upon their hands,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
Oh they had flour upon their hands,
On Christmas day in the mornin’.
And it was an hour before the hash,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day.
And it was an hour before the hash,
On Christmas day in the mornin’.
The dirty bastards were pre-layin’,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day.
The dirty bastards were pre-layin’,
On Christmas day in the mornin’.
I SAW THREE DOTS
Melody – I Saw Three Ships
By Richard Applebee, Barbados HHH
I saw three dots of flour white
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
I saw three dots of flour white
On Xmas day in the morning
Pray whither did those three dots lead?
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
Pray, whither did those three dot lead?
On Xmas day in the morning
They led me to a check all three,
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
They lead me to a check, all three
On Xmas day in the morning
And tell me please, what saw you there?
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
And tell me please, what saw you there?
On Xmas day in the morning
I saw four-score of hashers lost
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
I saw four-score of hashers lost
On Xmas day in the morning
What didst thou do, O hasher, then?
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
What didst thou do O hasher, then
On Xmas day in the morning
I called the ‘On’ back to the bar
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
I called the ‘On’ back to the bar
On Xmas day in the morning
Then drank I forty seven Banks
On Xmas day, on Xmas day
Then drank I forty seven Banks
On Xmas day in the morning.
So hashers all, rejoice amain
On Xmas day, on Xmas day
So hashers all, rejoice amain
On Xmas day in the morning
I WANT A KEG OF MURPHY’S STOUT FOR CHRISTMAS
Melody – I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas
Contributed by Catwoman
If I could have my way, I’d wish for this on Christmas day.
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas
A keg of Murphy’s stout is all I want
Don’t want a Bud, a beer that I abhor
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout to drink on Christmas morn
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas.
I don’t think Santa Claus will mind do you.
He won’t have to use our dirty chimney flue.
Just bring it through the front door, that’s the easy thing to do
I can see me now on Christmas morning, crawling down the stairs
Oh what joy and what surprise, when I open up my eyes.
To see a Murphy’s tapped and waiting there.
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas, only a keg of Murphy’s stout will do
No Miller Lite, I want a beer with muscle
Santa puhlease, tell your elves to hustle
So I can tap the keg and have some brew. Ba da da dm da dm
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas
I keg of Murphy’s stout is all I want.
Don’t want a Schlitz, no PBR for sure.
I want a tasty beverage that will make my vision blur.
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas
I promise I will pull a pint for you.
I have a kegerator and a tank of CO2.
I’ll chill it down and set the tap and have a pint of two.
I can see me now on Christmas morning crawling down the stairs.
Oh what joy and what surprise, when I open up my eyes
To see my hoppy heaven waiting there.
I want a keg of Murphy’s stout for Christmas.
Only a keg of Murphy’s stout will do will do.
Don’t want a Busch, a beer you give your mama
I only want pints of malty manna
And all my friends like Murphy’s like I do
Yes all my friends like Murphy’s, like I do Oh yeah.
I’M DREAMING OF A RIGHT CHRISTMAS
Melody – I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas
Composed by Andy Russo
I’m dreaming of a Right Christmas,
Just like the ones I used to know,
With more defense spending,
And taxes ending,
And deficits which never grow.
I’m dreaming of a Right Christmas,
With every budget bill I write,
May your town be tidy and white,
And may all your Christmases be Right.
I’m dreaming of a Right Christmas,
Just like the ones I know,
Where the budget’s tightened,
And children frightened,
Of orphanages where they’ll go.
I’m dreaming of a Right Christmas,
With every liberal I fight,
May we keep the homeless out of sight,
And may all your Christmases be right.
IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE SYPHILIS
Melody – It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
Composed by Crabs, San Francisco HHH, for the annual Christmas Hash and Party, 1994.
It’s beginning to look a lot like syphilis,
It’s the holiday shove!
Take a look at the purple sores,
Rotting through to the core,
Of the blue veins, of your candy cane,
Of love!
It’s beginning to look a lot like syphilis,
It stings, when I pee.
My brain has turned to purple,
My sperm has begun to curdle,
My dick looks funny, it’s green and runny,
With fleas!
BRIDGE:
I once was a stud,
With an eight-inch pud,
I was the envy of Hashland.
But, safe sex was neglected,
I became dickually infected,
Now pieces come off in my hand.
It’s beginning to look a lot like syphilis,
In the San Francisco fog.
But the merriest sight you’ll see,
Is the festering that will be,
On your own Yule log!
JINGLE BALLS (I)
Melody – Jingle Bells
Jingle balls, jingle balls, jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to run around naked in this way,
Jingle balls, jingle balls, jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to run round naked Christmas day.
Dashing round the block, not wearing any dacks,
One hand on your cock, to give your balls more slack,
Bouncing up and down as we run to and fro,
We’ll jingle with our genitals wherever we may go.
(Repeat first verse running in place with hands on crotches)
JINGLE BALLS (II)
Melody – Jingle Bells
Dashing through the snow, almost in the nude,
Santa’s bollocks glow, how nice to be so rude.
The bell at the whorehouse rings, he’s reserved a cracking tart,
She always wears his picker out and climaxes with a fart.
CHORUS:
Jingle Balls, Jingle Balls, shag ’em all the way,
Oh what fun it is to fuck on the eve of Christmas Day,
Jingle Balls, Jingle Balls, Santa isn’t gay,
Oh what fun it is to shag on a one-horse open sleigh.
Santa’s on his way, his pants are round his knees,
He’s got his end away, and Rudolph isn’t pleased.
Up on the whorehouse tiles, his cock begins to swell,
The whore plays with his piles, and jerks him off as well.
JINGLE BALLS (III)
Melody – Jingle Bells
Contributed by Tree Humper
Flashing through the snow
In an open beige trench coat.
Through the town we go
Horny as a goat. Hee, hee, hee.
Bells on my balls ring
Making me excite.
Oh what fun it is to flash
The grade school girls tonight.
Oh jingle balls, Jingle balls,
Jingle all the way.
Oh what fun it is to flash
So horny for a lay, ay.
Jingle balls, Jingle balls,
Jingle all the way.
Oh what fun it is to flash
So horny for a lay.
LET IT GLOW
Melody – Let it Snow
Contributed by Derek Cashman
Oh, it happened quite late this morning,
The reactor gave a warning,
So as the walls start to flow,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow.
Officials began to wonder,
With the fault line running under,
If nukes were the way to go,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow.
Oh, the units were built in threes,
‘Cause the number is funny and droll,
And now we can see the Chinese,
A-wavin’ at us from the hole.
Now the little black smudge is Sister,
And my dog is just a blister,
But since it’s their time to go,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow.
Now the say the “event” was “unplanned,”
Just a shift in the offshore shelf,
And that’s why my thyroid gland,
Is driving a car by itself.
Now Grandmother ain’t too pretty,
And that hairless blob is Kitty,
But she’s eight more lives to go,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow,
Watch ’em glow.
MERRY HASHMAS
Melody – We Wish You a Merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Hashmas,
We wish you a merry Hashmas,
We wish you a merry Hashmas,
And a clappy New Year.
Bad tidings we bring,
About the drip and the sting,
We wish you a Merry Syphilis,
And a Happy Gonorrhea.
We wish you a Merry Syphilis,
We wish you a Merry Syphilis,
We wish you a Merry Syphilis,
And a Happy Gonorrhea.
MONSTER HASH
Melody – Monster Mash
I was running with the HASH on Halloween night,
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight,
Poofters and Short Cutters began to arrive,
And suddenly, to my surprise,
They did the HASH – They did the Monster HASH,
The Monster HASH – It was a graveyard HASH,
They did the HASH – They caught on in a flash,
They did the HASH – They did the Monster HASH.
From knee deep shiggy in the swamp that’s east,
To wading through the creek where the leeches feast,
The poofters all came when they heard the news,
They could get some mud on their running shoes.
And do the HASH – And do the Monster HASH,
The monster HASH – And do the graveyard HASH,
To do the HASH – They caught on in a flash,
To do the HASH – To do the Monster HASH.
The trail was dark, the hares were not to be found,
Igor unchained was running with the hounds,
The local cops were about to arrive,
With orders to take Hashers DEAD or ALIVE!
The Hashers were having fun – in-a-shoop-wha-ooo,
The party had just begun – in-a-shoop-wha-ooo,
The guests included Wolf Man – in-a-shoop-wha-ooo,
Dracula and his son.
Out from his pickup the Tyrant’s voice did ring,
It seems he was worried ’bout just one thing,
Opened the door and shook his fist, and said,
“Whatever hoppened to those running club wimps?”
They did the HASH – They did the Monster HASH,
The Monster HASH – It was a graveyard HASH,
They did the HASH – They caught on in a flash,
They did the HASH – They did the Monster HASH.
Now everything’s cool, we found all of the pack,
And the Monster HASH, it will be coming back,
For you, the sober, this HASH was meant, too,
When you come On In, tell them Boris sent you.
And you can HASH – And you can Monster HASH,
The monster HASH – And do the graveyard HASH,
And you can HASH – You’ll catch on in a flash,
Then you can HASH – Then you can Monster HASH.
IGOR: Mmmm…hash goooood! Hash goood! BORIS: Down Igor, you impetuous young boy. IGOR: Hash goooood . . .
NEXT THANKSGIVING
Melody – Frere Jacques
Next Thanksgiving, next Thanksgiving,
Don’t eat bread, don’t eat bread,
Shove it up the turkey, shove it up the turkey,
Eat the bird, eat the bird.
Next Christmas, next Christmas,
Don’t trim a tree, don’t trim a tree,
Shove it up the chimney, shove it up the chimney,
Goose Saint Nick, goose Saint Nick.
Next Easter, next Easter,
Don’t color eggs, don’t color eggs,
Shove them up the rabbit, shove them up the rabbit,
Eat the hare, eat the hare.
The NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON, DECEMBER 13, 1997
Poem by Flying Booger (1996)
‘Twas the December Full Moon, and all through the land,
Hashers were stirring, the night would be grand;
Their hash bags were stuffed in the B-Van with care,
In hopes the Grand Master soon would be there;
The harriettes were clothed all snug in their sweats,
Speaking, as usual, like they all had Tourette’s;
And Pick ‘n’ Flick in her headband, and I in my sarong,
Were up for a trail, no matter how long,
When from a neighboring junkyard there arose such a clatter,
We ran for the fence to see what was the matter,
Over the chain link we hopped in a flash,
Ripped our shorts on the top – what the hell, it’s a hash;
The full moon shone down on a field of old tires,
And a group of hobos, warming hands round a fire,
When what to our wondering eyes should be there,
But the Grand Master – and dressed as a hare!
With a great big beer belly, and a tankard of lager,
I feared the GM would soon lead us to slaughter;
More rapid than eagles his co-hares they came,
And he guzzled, and belched, and called them by name:
“Now Zippy! now, Mullet! now, Floppy and Sex Toy!
On, Access! on, oPie!, on Swamp Bitch and Rude Boy!
Through the worst of the shiggy, through valley and dale,
Now, hare away, hare away, lay us a trail!”
As dry heaves that after indulgence do retch,
The hares sprinted off with nary a stretch,
And into the woods with their flour they flew,
While we sang Father Abraham – and Wanking Day too.
And then of a sudden, headlights loomed in the dark,
And we watched in silence as a strange car did park;
Then from this rust-bucket there sprang with a hail,
The Religious Advisor – who we thought was in jail.
He was dressed in hash rags from his head to his crotch,
And his clothes were all stained with semen and scotch,
His mouth it hung open in a great gaping leer,
And all four of his chins did glisten with beer.
A well-worn hash whistle he held tight in his teeth,
And his BO encircled the pack like a wreath;
Our long-missing Hash Shit did he clutch in his hand,
And he looked like an escapee from no-mans’ land.
His eyes, how bloodshot! His nostrils, how hairy!
His cheeks were all stubbled, like Yassur’s, how very;
His nose was all runny and his stomach did sag,
The way it rolled over his pudendae, even Jammies did gag.
He was a trailer park reject, a man of no status,
She Mussel laughed when she saw him, while AD passed flatus;
And the droop of his eye, and the point of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread.
He said not a word, but went straight to the tap,
And filled up his mug, the free-loading sap;
Then putting a finger up one side of his nose,
Blew a great wad of snot, then wiped it off on his clothes.
He took off down the trail, leaving us stunned,
It was hard to believe the fat fuck could actually run;
But we heard him exclaim as he ran out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all hashers, and to all a good night!”
THE NINE DAZE OF CHRISTMAS
Melody – The Twelve Days Of Christmas
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Eight healthy roaches
Seven cubes of crack
Six joints a’smoking
Five pounds of hashish
Four pink pills
Three snorts of coke
Two hits of acid
And a dime bag of Panama Red
Spoken (?):
On the ninth day, everybody OD’d and they were all rushed to the hospital where they were given nine wiffs of nitro, and nine bottles of Valium. Then everybody OD’s on Valium and dies.
OH EVERCLEAR
Melody – Oh Tannenbaum
Contributed by Tree Humper
Oh Everclear, oh Everclear,
You make me stagger and weave.
Oh Everclear, oh Everclear,
You make me choke and heave.
My eyes are blind, they cannot see,
My knees they buckle under me.
Oh Everclear, oh Everclear,
What would I do without thee?
OH KENNEDY
Melody – Oh Tannenbaum
Contributed by Derek Cashman
Oh Kennedy, oh Kennedy,
Clan of fornication.
If it be a girl he sees,
His dick is at half-station.
It matters not, of whom we talk,
They’re all the same, chips off the block.
Oh Kennedy, oh Kennedy,
Skirts you’re always chasing.
OH TOILET BOWL
Melody – Oh Tannenbaum
Found on Hashspace
Oh toilet bowl, olh toilet bowl,
You’re the only one who understands me,
Oh toilet bowl, olh toilet bowl,
You’re oh so cool beside me,
And when I hear that flushing sound,
I know my vomit’s underground,
Oh toilet bowl, olh toilet bowl,
You’re the only one who understands me.
OZZY THE RED NOSE HASHER
Melody – Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
Contributed by Gypsy, Sarnia HHH
Ozzy the red nose hasher
Has a tattoo on his ass
And if you want to see it
All you have to do is ask.
Out to the Squire Tavern
To do a Tequila body shot
And if you’ve ever done one
You know that they can make you HOT
Then on this Sarnia’s Christmas Run
Gypsy came to say:
“Ozzy with your bar so near
I think we need 10 more kegs of beer?”
Oh how these hashers loved him
And they shouted as they peed
Ozzy the Red nose Hasher
You’ll go down in hastory.
POLITICALLY CORRECT SANTA
A poem by Harvey Ehrlich
‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck . . .
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”,
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the North Pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And Equal Employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with four pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur-trimmed red suit was called “unenlightened.”
And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion
That making a choice could cause such a commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets . . . they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological,
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football . . . someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brains away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere … even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth . . .
“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.”
THE RESTROOM DOOR SAID “GENTLEMEN”
Melody – God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material?)
The restroom door said “Gentlemen” so I just walked inside,
I took two steps and realized I’d been taken for a ride.
I heard high voices, turned and found the place was occupied
By three nuns, two old ladies and a nurse.
What could be worse,
Than three nuns, two old ladies and a nurse?
The restroom door said “Gentlemen,” it must have been a gag.
As soon as I did walk therein, I ran into some old hag.
She sprayed me with a can of Mace and hit me with her bag.
It just wasn’t cut out to be my day.
What can I say?
It just wasn’t cut out to be my day!
The restroom door said “Gentlemen” and I would like to find,
The crummy little creep who had the nerve to switch the sign.
Because I’ve got two black eyes and one high heel up my behind.
Now I’ll never sit in comfort or joy.
Boy oh boy!
Now I’ll never sit in comfort or joy.
RUDOLPH THE RED KNOBBED REINDEER
Melody – Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Rudolph the red-knobbed reindeer,
Had a very smelly cock,
And if you ever saw it,
You would prob’ly die of shock.
His foreskin was full of maggots,
Had blisters, pox and clap,
He had no hope of shagging,
He was a very sorry chap.
Then one frosty Christmas Eve,
Santa came to say,
“You red knob is an awful sight,
Please don’t pull my sleigh tonight.”
Rudolph he was so unhappy,
So far away did he trot,
Rudolph enjoyed jerking off in,
Everybody’s chimney pot.
RUSTY CAR
Melody – Jingle Bells
Contributed by Derek Cashman (copyrighted material?)
Dashing through the snow, in my rusty Chevrolet,
Down the road I go, sliding all the way.
I need new piston rings, I need some new snow tires,
My car is held together by a piece of chicken wire.
Oh, rust and smoke, heater’s broke, the door just blew away,
I light a match to see the dash, and then I start to pray-ay.
The frame is bent, the muffler went, the radio’s okay,
Oh, what fun it is to drive this rusty Chevrolet.
I went to IGA, to get some Christmas cheer,
I just passed up my left front tire, and it’s gettin’ hard to steer.
Speeding down the highway, right past the county cops,
I have to drag my swampers just to get the thing to stop.
Oh, rust and smoke, heater’s broke, the door just blew away,
I light a match to see the dash, and then I start to pray-ay.
The frame is bent, the muffler went, the radio’s okay,
Oh, what fun it is to drive this rusty Chevrolet.
Bouncing through the snowdrifts in a big blue cloud of smoke,
People laugh as I drive by, I wonder what’s the joke?
I have to get to Wal-Mart to pick up my layaway,
‘Cause Santa’s coming soon in his big old rusty sleigh.
Oh, rust and smoke, heater’s broke, the door just blew away,
I light a match to see the dash, and then I start to pray-ay.
The frame is bent, the muffler went, the radio’s okay,
Oh, what fun it is to drive this rusty Chevrolet. Hey!
SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN
Melody – Same
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
You better watch out,
You better not cry,
You better not pout, I’m telling you why,
Santa Claus is dead.
SANTA LIMERICKS
By Flying Booger
That jolly old fattie, Saint Nick,
Felt a great need to go dip his wick,
So he buggered poor Vixen,
Two elves, and then Blitzen,
With jingle bells tied to his prick.
When Mrs. Claus heard of this tryst,
Her reaction was not very nice,
With the whip from his sleigh,
His plump butt she did flay,
Then said, “He won’t do this twice!”
Santa, feigning shame and remorse,
Begged her not to file for divorce,
But that night in the toolshed,
He took on Comet and Cupid,
And a dwarf who was hung like a horse.
SATANIC BELLS
Melody – Jingle Bells
Thrashing through the snow
In a seven-demon sleigh
Running over priests
Laughing all the way (evil chuckle – har har har)
Bells on barbtails ring making spirits blight
What fun it is to slash and sing
Santa dies tonight
Oh Santa dies, gouge his eyes
Oh what misery
He won’t come to visit you with
Presents for the tree
Now he’s dead, there’s his head
Rolling down the street
Demons playing soccer with their
Little cloven feet
Now Santa made a deal
With Lucifer last night
But it seems that Santa made
A tiny oversight
The contract was brought out
And Santa read it well
But he didn’t read the part that said
He’d give his soul to Hell
Oh flames of sin now begin
Red suit burning bright
Little boys and girls won’t get their
Gifts on Christmas night
Burning flesh, nice and fresh
With a flaming sash
Satan is the ruler here
And so Shemhamforash
SILENT NIGHT
Melody – Silent Night
Silent night, foggy night,
Somebody pfffffft!, smells like shite,
Who’s the bastard that dropped his guts,
I hope it blew a hole in his nuts,
That will make him sing higher,
And bring a tear to his eye.
‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Recitation
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat.
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.
The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook,
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.
Momma in her teddy and I in the nude,
We had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube,
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.
Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver, half out of the sled,
A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.
Sure as I’m speaking, he was high as a kite,
And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.
“Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.
Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.”
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.
And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jockies, to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.
His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.
“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,
“The reindeer are pooped, so I’ll stay for a while.”
He walked to the kitchen and poured him a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.
Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.
A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,
And six pair of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several more things I shouldn’t even mention.
A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.
“This stuff ain’t for kids; Mrs. Santa will shit,
So I’ll leave ’em here, and then I’ll just split.”
He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.
In time he was seated, and took reigns of his hitch,
Saying, “Take me home, Rudolf . . . this night’s been a bitch!”
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
“The best thing about pussy is that you can’t wear it out!”
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS (I)
Melody – The Twelve Days of Christmas
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me:
Twelve hairy harlots,
Eleven lecherous lesbians,
Ten tired trollops,
Nine naughty nuns,
Eight useless eunuchs,
Seven sex-starved sisters,
Six convicted vicars,
Five choir boys!
Four windmill girls,
Three boy scouts,
Two virgin queens,
And a pervert in a pantry.
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS (II)
by Flying Booger, 1996
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My GM gave to me:
Twelve streams a’leaping,
Eleven unmarked bad trails,
Ten two-mile back checks,
Nine nests of hornets,
Eight railroad trestles,
Seven outraged farmers,
Six chain-link fences,
Five neck-deep swamps,
Four clumps of shiggy,
Three forest rangers,
Two down-downs,
And a long sit on a block of ice.
THE TWELVE REDNECK DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
Melody – The Twelve Days Of Christmas
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material?)
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Twelve cans of Bud
Eleven rasslin’ tickets
Ten tins of Copenhagen
Nine years’ probation
Eight table dances
Seven packs of Redman
Six cans of Spam
Five flannel shirts
Four Mud Grip tires
Three shotgun shells
Two huntin’ dogs
And some parts to a Mustang GT.
THE TWELVE RUNS OF HASHING
Contributed by Gypsy, Sarnia HHH
On the twelve run of hashing those wankers gave to me,
Twelve tits a showing
Eleven heathens preaching
Ten toes to suck on
Nine drunks a puking
Eight bimbos milking
Seven swamps to swim in
Six assholes mooning
My own hash name
Four soggy sneakers
Three jolly down-downs
Two turtle stops
And enough beer to make us go pee!
WALKIN’ ‘ROUND IN WOMENS’ UNDERWEAR
Melody – Winter Wonderland
People have heard this on the radio, so it’s a copyrighted song, but hashers mainly remember it as performed by Rose Eh and Sex Toy of the Hogtown HHH at World Interhash ’94 and the Pissburgh 600th
Lacy things, the wife is missin’,
Didn’t ask for her permission,
I’m wearin her clothes_silk panty hose,
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
In the store, there’s a teddy
Little straps, like spaghetti
It holds me so tight, like handcuffs at night
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
In the office there’s a guy named Melvin,
He pretends that I am Murphy Brown,
He’ll say are you ready, I’ll say whoa man,
Let’s wait until the wife is out of town.
Later on, if you wanna,
We can dress like Madonna,
Put on some eye shade and join the parade
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
Lacy things the wife is missin’,
Didn’t ask for her permission,
I’m wearin her clothes_silk panty hose,
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
Walkin’ round in womens’ underwear.
WE THREE KINGS
Melody – We Three Kings of Orient Are
Contributed by Derek Cashman
We three kings of Orient are,
One on a bicycle, one in a car,
One on a scooter, banging his hooter,
Following yonder star.
We three kings of Orient are,
Smoking on a rubber cigar,
One was loaded, it exploded,
Now we’re on yonder star.
We three kings of Madison Square,
Trying to see this cheap underwear,
They’re fantastic, no elastic,
Twenty-five cents the pair.
WE THREE QUEENS
Melody – We Three Kings of Orient Are
By Richard Applebee, Barbados HHH
We three Queens of BHHH are
Wearing pink, we hash from the bar
Moor and mountain field and fountain
Sple – e- ndid in a bra.
CHORUS:
O! poofters mincing, poofters queer
Prancing ON with simpering leer
0N-ward ever, checking never
Guide us to a crate of beer
Born as Queens in Barbados fair
Lace we bring and stockings to wear
Queens forever, belts of le-e-eather
Ri-ibbons in our hair.
Chorus
Petticoats to offer have we
Frilly skirts that reach to the knee
Ladies dating, maids in waiting
Gi-i-rlies we would be
Chorus
Plaits are ours and pretty perfume
Hashing through the gathering gloom
We hear Rami wants to be Spa- a-mmy
Sporting a flowery bloom.
Chorus
Glorious now behold us arise
Fortified by Patti’s pork pies
Aren’t we saintly ladies dai-ainty
Mascara round our eyes.
Chorus
WE WISH YOU A DRUNKEN CHRISTMAS
Melody – We Wish You a Merry Christmas
Composed by Smoking Wiener, Rocket Shitty HHH
We wish you a drunken Christmas,
We wish you a drunken Christmas,
We wish you a drunken Christmas and a case of cold beer.
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin,
Good tidings for Christmas and a case of cold beer.
Oh, bring us some Jello shooters,
Oh, bring us some Jello shooters,
Oh, bring us some Jello shooters and a keg of cold beer.
We won’t go until we get drunk,
We won’t go until we get drunk,
We won’t go until we get drunk, on a full keg of beer.
We wish you a drunken Christmas,
We wish you a drunken Christmas,
We wish you a drunken Christmas and a keg of cold beer.
WHILE THE KIWIS SHAGGED
Melody – While Shepherds Watched
While the Kiwis shagged their flocks by night,
All laying on the ground,
Up jumped the Aussie doctor and said,
“Stop that and I’ll buy a round.”
“Fear not,” said they,
For fear of AIDS had seized the doctor’s mind,
“Before we Kiwis take a new bride,
We clean out her behind.”
So you girls waiting for the question popped,
You won’t get very far,
If you want to take a Kiwi mate,
You’ll have to answer, “Baaaaaa.”
WHIPS AND CHAINS
Melody – Silver Bells
Contributed by Tree Humper
Walking sidewalks, city sidewalks
In her leather and heels,
In my pants there’s a feeling of stiffness.
Her name’s Bambi, and it may be,
That tonight I might catch,
A face full of Bambi’s pink snatch.
Whips and chains (whips and chains),
Beat me lame (beat me lame),
My only pleasure is pain.
Crush my balls (crush my balls),
Make me crawl (make me crawl),
Bambi please make me your slave.
WHITE HASHMAS
Melody – White Christmas
I’m dreaming of a white Hashmas,
As I masturbate in bed,
Dreaming of juicy Lucy and Rock Hard’s floozies,
And a katoey giving me head,
I’m dreaming of a white Hashmas,
With every stroke of my old man,
Oh, I think I’m coming,
I know I’m coming,
Oh, won’t Hashmas be so grand.
WINTER WONDERLAND
Melody – Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland
Contributed by Tree Humper
On her thighs sweat is glistenin’
To her moans you are listenin’.
Oh what a time we’re having tonight
Humpin’ in a winter wonderland.
In the winter do it in the snow man
Careful you don’t get a frost bit nut.
If she says she’ll do it, then say blow ma’am
It great to start the evening going down.
Later on when we tire
Warm our ass by the fire.
Oh what a night, her pussy’s so tight
Humpin’ in a winter wonderland.
WONDER WHERE I AM
Melody – Winter Wonderland
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material)
At the office Christmas party,
I started out with a Bicardi.
I never get sauced,
But, right now, I’m lost!
It’s Christmas and I wonder where I am!
I had a beer at my brother’s,
Had egg nog at my mother’s,
Then two bottles of wine.
Which automobile’s mine?
It’s Christmas and I wonder where I am!
Someone caught me dancing with a snowman.
A policeman came and put me in his car.
He said, “Are you drunk?” and I say, “No, man,
But could you drop me off at the next bar?”
I guess my wife must be missing.
Who’s this dog that I’m kissing?
They say his name’s Spot,
And he likes me . . . a lot!
It’s Christmas and I wonder where I am!
I was looking for a woman I could dance with
So I stood beneath the mistletoe.
Someone said, “You’d have a better chance if
You take the lampshade off and put back on your clothes!
I’m naked. Is it still snowing?
It’s time I should leave,
(But) I’ll be back New Year’s Eve!!
It’s Christmas and I wonder where I am!
It’s Christmas and I wonder where I am!
YASS, YASS, YASS
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
When out by the chimney I heard something pass,
It was Santa Claus slippin’ on his yass, yass, yass . . .
——————————————————————————–
HASH STANDARDS
“A” is for A
“A” is for Arsehole
Act Sederunt of the Session
Arseholes are Cheap Today (I)
Arseholes are Cheap Today (II)
Arseholes are Cheap Today (III)
As I Was Walking Through the Wood (Old One-Hundredth)
Aussie Serenade
Balham Vicar
Ball Game
Ball of Ballyknure (I)
Ball of Ballyknure (II)
Banana Song
Band Played On
Barcelona
Blinded by Shit
British Sailor
Cactus In My Y-Fronts
Can You Walk a Little Way?
Chandler’s Shop
Chicago
Chisholm Trail
Clintstones
Clean Song
Cold Winter’s Evening
Colostomy’s Best
Comin’ Thro’ the Rye
Country Sunday School
Did You Ever See?
Do Your Balls Hang Low?
Do Your Tits Hang Low? (I)
Do Your Tits Hang Low? (II)
Does Your Bum Hang Low?
Don’t Cry Lady
English Country Garden
Fart
Farting Contest
Get Fucked
Give Me that Old Time Religion
Good Ship Venus
Hallelujah, I’m a Bum
Happy Wank Song
Has Anybody Seen J. C.?
Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s Off to the Burlesque Show
Humoresque
I Want to Play Piano
I’ll Take the Left Leg
Incontinence is the Shits
Irian Jaya
It’s the Same the Whole World Over
I Wish I Was in England
Jesus Can’t Go Hashing
Jonestown
Junior Birdmen
Leaver’s Song
Lehigh Valley
Life Presents a Dismal Picture
Little Bit Off the Top
Little Red Train
Mobile
Moonshadow
My God How the Money Rolls In
My Sombrero
North Atlantic Squadron
Old Bazaar in Cairo
Old Irish State
Or Would You Rather be a ____?
Ou Est Le Papier?
Ovaltine Song
Patriotic Song
Pissanya, Pissanya
Plastic Jesus
Prayer
Red Flag
Ring the Bell Verger
Road to Gundagai
Roedean School
Roll Your Leg Over
Scrotum
Sexiatus Mania
Sinking of the Titanic (I)
Sinking of the Titanic (II)
Sod ‘Em All
Some Die of Drinking Water
Spanish Guitar
Sweet Violets (I)
Sweet Violets (II)
Ten Sticks of Dynamite
There Was an Old Farmer
They’re Moving Father’s Grave
Three Chinese Crackers
Tonight We March Against England
Vegetables Are the Best
Walking Down Canal Street
Wee Wee Song
Yellow Ryder Truck
You Won’t Find Any Country (I)
You Won’t Find Any Country (II)
“A” IS FOR A
Gregorian Chant (sort of)
“A” is for A,
A,
Aye, aye, aye, aye.
“L” is for long,
Long,
A long,
Aye, aye, aye, aye.
“S” is for strong,
Strong,
Long strong,
A long strong,
Aye, aye, aye, aye.
“B” is for black,
Black,
Strong black,
Long strong black,
A long strong black,
Aye, aye, aye, aye.
(and so on . . . )
“P” is for pudding,
Pudding,
Black pudding, etc . . .
“U” is for up,
Up,
Pudding up, etc . . .
“M” is for my,
My,
Up my, etc . . .
“S” is for sister’s,
Sister’s,
My sister’s, etc . . .
“C” is for cat’s,
Cat’s,
Sister’s cat’s, etc . . .
“A” is for arsehole,
Arsehole,
Cat’s arsehole, etc . . .
“T” is for twice,
Twice,
Arsehole twice, etc . . .
“N” is for nightly,
Nightly,
Twice nightly, etc . . .
“W” is for weather,
Weather,
Nightly weather, etc . . .
“P” is for permitting,
Permitting,
Weather permitting, etc . . .
“S” is for sideways,
Sideways,
Permitting sideways, etc . . .
“A” IS FOR ARSEHOLE
Melody – A Frog He Would A’Wooing Go
A is for arsehole all covered in shit,
Heigh-ho says Rowley,
B is the bugger who revels in it,
Singing roly, poly, up’em and stuff’em,
Heigh-ho, says Anthony Rowley.
C is for cunt all dripping with piss,
Heigh-ho, etc . . .
D is the drunkard who gave it a kiss, etc . . .
E is the eunuch with only one ball,
F is the fucker with no balls at all.
G is for goiter, gonorrhea, and gout,
H is the harlot who spreads it about.
I is for insertion, injection, and itch,
J is the jerk of a dog on a bitch.
K is the knight who thought fucking a bore,
L is the lesbian who came back for more.
M is the maidenhead all tattered and torn,
N is the noble who died on his horn.
O is for orifice all cunningly concealed,
P is for penis all pranged up and peeled.
Q is the Quaker who shat in his hat,
R is the Rajah who rogered the cat.
S is the shit-pot all filled to the brim,
T are the turds which are floating within.
U is the usher who taught us at school,
V is the virgin who played with his tool.
W is the whore who thought fucking a farce,
And X, Y, and Z you can shove up your arse!
ACT SEDERUNT OF THE SESSION
Melody – Unknown
By Robert Burns, contributed by Zippy
In Edinburgh town they’ve made a law,
In Edinburgh at the Court o’ Session,
That standing pricks a fauteors a’,
And guilty of a high transgression.
Chorus:
Act Sederunt o’ the Session,
Descreet o’ the Court o’ session;
The rogues in pouring tears shall weep,
By Act Sederunt o’ the session
And they’ve provided dungeons deep,
Ilk lass has ane in her possession:
Until the wretches wail and weep,
There shall they lie for their transgression.
Glossary:
– Act Sederunt – A piece of general legislation under Scottish law
– fauteors a’ – offenders all
– Ilk lass has one – every lass has one
ARSEHOLES ARE CHEAP TODAY (I)
Melody – La Donna e Mobile
Contributed by Stephen Skaggs
Arseholes are cheap today,
Cheaper than yesterday,
Little ones are half a crown,
Standing up or bending down.
Large ones at three and eight,
Cause us to palpitate.
We have a big supply,
Of Gluteus Maximi.
We’ll pledge your money back,
So don’t say no to crack.
A bum deal you’ll get from us,
Arseholes are cheap!
Arseholes are cheap!
Aaaaaaaarrrrrrssssseeee holes are cheap!
ARSEHOLES ARE CHEAP TODAY (II)
Melody – La Donna e Mobile
Arseholes are cheap today,
Cheaper than yesterday,
Small boys ones’ are half a crown,
Standing up or bending down,
Big ones for bigger pricks,
Biggest ones cost three and six.
Get yours before they’re gone,
Come now and try one.
ARSEHOLES ARE CHEAP TODAY (III)
Melody – La Donna e Mobile
Small boys are cheap today,
Cheaper then yesterday,
Small ones are half a crown
Standing up or lying down,
Big ones are four and six,
Cos they’ve got bigger dicks,
Small boys are cheap, cheaper today.
Young girls are cheap today,
Cheaper than yesterday,
You get one for a shilling,
One and six for one who’s willing,
Pretty girls are a shilling more,
That’s two and sixpence for a whore,
Young girls are cheap, cheaper today.
Old hags are cheap today,
Cheaper than yesterday,
If you’re not getting any,
Old hags are ten a penny,
Stick her head in a paper bag,
For a farthing you get a shag,
Old hags are cheap, cheaper today.
AS I WAS WALKING THROUGH THE WOOD (OLD ONE-HUNDREDTH)
Melody – 100th Psalm
As I was walking through the wood,
I shat myself, I knew I would.
I cried for HELP, but no help came,
So I shat myself again.
As I was walking through Saint Paul’s,
The vicar grabbed me by the balls.
I cried for HELP, but no help came,
And so he grabbed my balls again.
As I was walking through Saint Giles’,
Some bastard grabbed me by my piles.
I cried for HELP, but no help came,
And so he grabbed my piles again.
As I was walking down the street,
A whore grabbed me by the meat.
I cried for HELP, but no help came,
And so she grabbed my meat again.
As I lay sleeping in the grass,
Some bastard rammed it up my ass.
I cried for HELP, but no help came,
And so he rammed it up again.
There were two crows up in a tree,
As black as black as crows could be,
Said one black crow unto the other,
“You are one black enamel fucker.”
AUSSIE SERENADE
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Mate
Pull me dungarees down, sport,
Pull me dungarees down.
I’m that sort of gal, sport,
So pull me dungarees down.
Put away that prick, Mick,
Put away that prick.
The sight of it makes me sick, Mick,
So put away that prick.
You up and gave me the jack, Mac,
You up and gave me the jack.
So I’ll just give it back, Mac,
You up and gave me the jack.
Oh, fuck me hard till I’m red, Fred,
Fuck me hard till I’m red.
On the floor or in bed, Fred,
Fuck me hard till I’m red.
Why are you all up in smiles, Giles,
Why are you all up in smiles?
Just got rid of your piles, Giles?
No wonder you’re all up in smiles.
Go back and wait for your turn, Vern,
Go back and wait for your turn.
You’ve got a lot to learn, Vern,
So go back and wait for your turn.
Let’s have one on the grass, Darce,
Let’s have one on the grass.
You can root me up the arse, Darce,
So let’s have one on the grass.
For my sake undo your fly, Guy,
For my sake undo your fly.
Do you wanna wait till its dry, Guy?
For my sake undo your fly.
Well, you sure took more than you gave, Dave,
You sure took more than you gave.
Do you think I’m your slave, Dave?
You sure took more than you gave.
You know I just can’t say no, Joe,
You know I just can’t say no.
So stick it in and I’ll blow, Joe,
You know I just can’t say no.
BALHAM VICAR
Melody – ???
There once was a Balham vicar
Who said to his curate,
I’ll bet I’ve fucked more women than you,
And the curate said You’re on.
And the curate said You’re on.
We’ll stand outside the church this day,
And this will be our sign,
You ding-a-ling for the women you’ve fucked,
And I’ll ding-a-dong for mine, for mine.
And I’ll ding-a-dong for mine, for mine.
Well there were more ding-a-lings and ding-a-dongs,
Till a pretty young lady went by.
And curate went ding-a-dong.
Oh, said the vicar, don’t ding-a-dong there,
That’s my wife I do declare,
Hell, said the curate, I don’t care,
Ding-a-ling-a-ling, ding, ding, ding, ding,
Ding-a-dong-a-dong, dong, dong, dong.
BALL GAME
Melody – Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Whip it out at the ball game,
Wave it round at the crowd,
Dip it in jello and Crackerjack,
I don’t care if you give it a whack,
Because it’s –
Beat your meat at the ball game,
If you don’t come it’s a shame,
For it’s one, two,
And you’re covered in goo,
At the old ball game!
THE BALL OF BALLYKNURE (I)
Melody – Itself
Short version
(Take turns leading verses)
Four and twenty virgins
Came down from Inverness,
And when the ball was over
There were four and twenty less.
CHORUS:
Singing, balls to your partners,
Arseholes against the walls,
If you never got laid on a Saturday night,
You’ll never get laid at all.
Four and twenty prostitutes
Came up from Glockamore,
And when the ball was over
They were all of them double bore.
The village cripple he was there,
He wasn’t up to much,
He lined ’em up against the wall,
And diddled ’em with his crutch.
The Queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey,
The King was in the chambermaid,
And she was in the money.
First lady forward,
Second lady back,
Third lady’s finger
Up the fourth lady’s crack.
The village policeman he was there,
The pride of all the force,
They found him in the stable,
Wanking off his horse.
The village plumber he was there,
He felt an awful fool,
He’d come eleven leagues or more
And forgot to bring his tool.
There was humping in the hallways
And humping in the ricks,
You couldn’t hear the music
For the swishing of the dicks.
‘Twas ballocks in the kitchen,
And ballocks in the halls,
You couldn’t hear the music
For the clanging of the balls.
‘Twas fellatio in the anteroom,
Cunnilingus on the stairs,
You couldn’t see the carpet
For the cunts and curly hairs.
Sandy McPherson he came along,
It was a bloody shame,
He fucked a lassie forty times,
And wouldna take her haim.
The parson’s daughter she was there,
The cunning little runt,
With poison ivy up her bum,
And thistle up her cunt.
The vicar’s wife, well she was there,
A-sitting by the fire,
Knitting rubber johnnies
Out of India rubber tire.
The village idiot he was there,
Sitting on a pole,
He pulled his foreskin over his head
And whistled through the hole.
Mrs. O’Malley she was there,
She had the crowd in fits,
A-jumping off the mantelpiece
And bouncing on her tits.
The bride was in the kitchen
Explaining to the groom,
That the vagina, not the rectum,
Is the entrance to the womb.
The village magician he was there,
Up to his favorite trick,
Pulling his arsehole over his head,
And standing on his prick.
The village smithy he was there,
Sitting by the fire,
Doing abortions by the score
With a piece of red hot wire.
The blacksmith’s brother he was there,
A mighty man was he,
He lined them up against the wall
And buggered them three by three.
Now farmer Giles he was there,
His sickle in his hand,
And every time he swung around
He circumcised the band.
The vicar’s wife she was still there,
Back against the wall,
“Put your money on the table, boys,
I’m fit to do ye all.”
The vicar and his goodly wife
Were having lots of fun,
The parson had his finger
Up another lady’s bum.
The village doctor he was there,
He had his bag of tricks,
And in between the dances
He was sterilizing dicks.
Father O’Flanagan he was there,
And in the corner he sat,
Amusing himself by abusing himself,
And catching it in his hat.
The vicar’s wife was yet still there,
Dressed in a long white shroud,
Swinging on the chandelier
And pissing on the crowd.
They was shagging in the couches,
They was shagging in the cots,
And lying up against the wall
Were rows of grinning sots.
Farmer Brown he was there,
A-jumping on his hat,
For half an acre of his corn
Was fairly now fucked flat.
Giles he played a dirty trick,
We canna let it pass,
He showed a lass his mighty prick,
Then shoved it up her arse.
Bayard Stockton he was there,
Drunk beyond a doubt,
He tried to stuff the parson’s wife,
But couldna get the root.
Jockie Stewart did his business
Right upon the moor,
It was, he thought, much better
Than pissing on the floor.
A couple of Hashers they were there,
A-looking for a fuck,
But every cunt was occupied
And they were out of luck.
Mike McMurdock when he got there,
His stand was long and high,
But when he’d shagged her forty times,
His balls were squeezed and dry.
McTavish, oh yes, he was there,
His piston long and broad,
And when he’d stroked the furrier’s wife
She had to be rebored.
McCardew-Roberts he was there,
His flagpole all alert,
But when half the night was done,
It was dragging in the dirt.
The chimney sweep he was there,
They had to throw him out,
For every time he passed his wind,
The room was filled with soot.
The doctor’s daughter she was there,
She went to gather sticks,
She couldna find a blade of grass,
For cunts and standing pricks.
The village builder he was there,
He brought his bag of tricks,
He poured cement in all the holes,
And blunted all the pricks.
Little Jimmy he was there,
The leader of the choir,
He hit the balls of all the boys,
To make their voices higher.
Now little Tommy he was there,
But he was only eight,
He couldna root the women,
So he had to masturbate.
The village postman he was there,
The poor man had the pox,
He couldna shag the ladies,
So he fucked the letterbox.
The village idiot he was there,
A-leaning on the gate,
He couldna find a partner
So he had to flatulate.
The blacksmith’s father he was there,
A-roaring like a lion,
He’d cut his rod off in the forge,
So he used a red-hot iron.
A pregnant woman she was there,
Her belly was well hung,
And when I tried to eat her,
A tiny hand grabbed my tongue.
And so the ball was over,
They all went home to rest,
And the music had been exquisite,
But the fucking was the best.
BALL OF BALLYKNURE (II)
Also known as THE BALL OF KIRRIEMUIR, or THE GATHERING OF THE CLANS
Melody – as for “The Ball of Ballyknure,” above
This version of “The Ball” was passed on to my by Ed Cray, who got it from Abby Sale, who offers the following comments:
“This collation is done by Joe Bethancourt, a professional singer in Arizona and member of Society for Creative Anachronisn (SCA). A large number of the verses are ‘filk,’ created for the SCA meeting and never were sung again elsewhere. Make of that what you will.
“I’ll relate an anecdote relating to [Ed Cray’s assertion that there was a historical Ball of Ballyknure, where there was much rowdy behivior, a precondition of which was that few Scottish ladies wore panties at the time] . . . .
“A female friend from the Isle of Lewis (a professional folksinger, in fact) told me some tales of her remote village on that remote island. About 1950 came the advent of Pakistani house-to-house peddlers of whatever-you-need. This was a good and welcome service in the area of no local stores, regular deliveries, public transport, or any facility of casual shopping. The peddler, having failed to sell any pots, pans, clothes or anything that trip to my informant’s 72-year old mother, finally tried the latest French panties. Mrs M said no, she didn’t need any. Peddler said well surely you must, these are brand new in the UK. No, she said, don’t need them. Peddler pressed . . . surely you must need panties. Absolutely not, she laughed, and lifting her long black skirts clear over her her head: ‘See? I never wear them.'”
Oh the Ball, the Ball of Ballyknure
Where your wife, and my wife, were doin’ it on the floor!
CHORUS:
Wha’ do ya, lassie?
And wha’ do y’noo?
I’m the man what did y’last, lass,
I canna do y’noo!
The Queen was in the parlour, eatin bread and honey
The King was in the chambermaid, and she was in the money!
The village idiot he was there, a-sittin’ by the fire
Attempting masturbation with an india-rubber tyre!
Oh, the village postman he was there, but he had the Pox
He couldna’ do the ladies so he did the letter-box!
The Queen of England she was there, backed against the wall
“Put yer money on the table, boys, I’m going ta do you all!”
The Count and Countess, they were there, a-doin’ on the stair
The bannister broke, and down they fell, they finished in mid-air!
There was music in the garden, there was music in the sticks
You couldna’ hear the music for the swishin’ o’ the pricks!
They were doin’ it on the landing, they were doin’ it on the stairs
You couldna’ see the carpet for the wealth of pubic hairs!
The Kingdom Herald, he was there, whattya think o’that?
Blazoning positions wi’ a Duchess and a cat!
The fubba-wubbas they were there, sittin’ all alone
Complainin of the doin’s with loud and piercing moans!
Mr. Jameison he was there, the one that fought the Boers
He jumped up on the table and he shouted for the hoors!
The Board of Directors they were there, and they were shocked to see
Four-and-twenty maidenheads a-hangin’ from a tree!
John the Blacksmith he was there, he wouldna play the game
He did a lassie seven times, but wouldna see her hame!
The village Constable he was there, now whattya think o’that?
Amusin’ himself by abusin’ himself, and catchin’ it in his hat . . .
It started out so simple-like: each lad and lassie mated
But pretty soon the doin’s got so bloody complicated!
Four and twenty virgins came down from Cuinimore
Only two got back again, and they were double-bore!
Clan MacChluarain, they were there, sleepin in the shade
For no one could decide if they were Man, or Sheep, or Maid!
The village pervert he was there, scratchin’ at his crotch
But no one minded him at all, he was only there to watch!
The Kingdom Seneshal was there, linin’ ’em up in rows
He didna use his pecker, lads, he did ’em with his toes!
The village cripple he was there, but he didna shag too much
His old John Thomas had fallen off, so he did ’em with his crutch!
The old schoolteacher he was there, he diddled by rule-of-thumb
Workin’ logarithmicly the times that he would come!
The village chimney-sweep was there, a really filthy brute
For every time he farted, he covered ’em all with soot!
The local Cavaliers were there, in elegance they sat
A-doin’ Things Unusual with the feathers in their hat!
The Rapier-fighters they were there, doin’ what they could
A-thrustin’ and a-parryin’ with Real Steel, not with wood!
The local Hordesmen they were there, busier than bees
The ladies wouldna have ’em, so they diddled dogs and trees!
The village carpenter he was there, with his prick of wood
He made it when he lost his own, and it worked just as good!
The shenai-fighters they were there, all wrapped up in smiles
A-doin’ everyone they could in Oriental style!
The College of Heralds they were there, in the other room
Arguin’ about who would do what, with which, to whom!
The rattan-jocks were out in force and they were such a sight
They didna do the ladies ’cause they’d heard there was a fight!
The old fishmonger he was there, a dirty stinkin sod
He never got a rise that night, so he diddled ’em with a cod!
The Kingdom Laurels they were there, and quite a sight to see
A-doin’ everyone they could, and most artisticly!
The Kingdom Pelicans were there, doin’ it with a sob
They diddled out of duty; it was just another job!
Four and twenty virgins went down to Inverness
And when the Ball was over, there were four and twenty less!
There was doin’s on the porches, and doin’s on the stones
You couldna’ hear the music for the loud and joyful moans!
(insert name) he was there, covered up with smiles
Doin’ thirty-two at once, and in amazing style!
All the Kingdom spodes were there, but they just sat and sulked
For this was the occasion that no one told them “Get fulked!”
Clan MacChluarain they were there, chasin’ round the Keep
And every single man of them buggerin’ a sheep!
(insert name) had a gerbil, he diddled it very well
He didn’t wrap it in duct tape: he blew it all to hell!
(insert name) he was there, with his favourite toys:
A dozen beautiful women, and a dozen beautiful boys!
(insert name) he was there; he wasn’t very nice
He didna do the ladies, he did gerbils, rats and mice!
(insert name) she was there, covered all in sweat,
Takin’ on all comers, and she hasn’t finished yet!
(insert name) she was there, covered all in sweat,
The Dark Horde carried her away, and we ain’t found her yet!
The Locksley Monsters they were there, lookin’ for some nookie
But they got distracted by a chocolate chippie cookie!
(insert name) he was there, a crafty friend of Ghengis,
He speaks a lot of languages; he is a cunning linguist!
The village Masochist, he was there, beggin’ for some blows
The Sadist merely looked at him, and softly answered “No!”
Yang the Nauseating was sittin’ out in back
The ladies did na’ want him for he smelled too much of yak!
The village druggist he was there, grinnin’ like a fox
He’d sold out of condoms, so he sold ’em dirty socks!
Buell the Kind was also there, that beggar meek and mild,
He didna’ do the ladies, he had brought his favourite child!
(insert name) he was there at the revel feast
He doesn’t like the girls, and the boys call him “The Beast!”
And in the morning, early, the Farmer nearly shat
For four and twenty acres was nearly fuckit flat!
It was a grand old party, lads, and sure a Locksley Plot
And every lad and lassie there was glad of what they got!
And when the Ball was over, everyone confessed
The music it was wonderful, but the “doin’s” were the best!
Following are extra verses, and XXX-rated verses, to “The Ball of Ballyknure”:
ALTERNATE CHORUS:
Singin’ balls to your partner
Arse agin’ th’ wall!
If y’canna’ get laid on Saturday nicht
You canna’ get laid at all!
The Minister’s wife, she was there, buckled tae th’ front
Wi’ a wreath of roses round her arse, and thistles round her cunt!
The Minister’s dochter, she was there, an’ she gat roarin’ fu’
Sae they doubled her ower the midden wa’ and did her like a coo!
The undertaker he was there, in a long black shroud
Swinging from the chandelier, and pissing on the crowd!
(insert name) was there, as well, she kept us all in fits
Jumping off the mantlepiece, and bouncing on her tits!
The village cooper he was there; he had a mighty tool!
He pulled his foreskin over his head, and yodeled thru the hole!
The local vicar, he was there, his collar back to front
He said, “My girls, thy sins are blessed!” and shoved it up their cunts!
The local surgeon, he was there, with his knife in hand,
And every time he turned around, he circumsized a man!
The village idiot he was there, up to his favorite trick:
Bouncin’ on his testicles and whistlin’ thru his prick!
The village fireman was there, quenchin’ lassie’s fires
He diddled ’em in the firetruck, right beside the tires!
(insert name) was also there, standing back-to-front,
With thirteen inches of candlestick inserted in her cunt!
The village nympho, she was there, wi’ a happy grin
Every hole was stuffit fu’, and she was fu’ o’ quim!
The village glazier he was there, with his prick of glass
He diddled ’em in their cunnys, and also in the ass!
One female musician was some sight to watch
With “Dowland” from her lute, and “Palestrina” from her crotch!
There was doin’s in the bedrooms, there was doin’s in the tub
‘Till every single pecker there was worn down to a nub!
The bride was in the bedroom, explainin’ to the groom:
The vagina, not the rectum, is the entrance to the womb!
The King was in the counting house, counting out his wealth;
The Queen was in the parlor, playin’ with herself!
(insert name) he was there, his balls was made of brass
And when he blew a fart, m’lads, sparks flew out his ass!
The tailor was a busy man; his work went to his head
Sewing up the stretched-out cunts with miles and miles of thread!
The Elder Statesmen all were there; they were too old to firk,
So they sat around the table and they had a circle-jerk!
(insert name) was excited and racin’ round the hall
A-pullin’ on his pecker and showin’ off his balls!
The Parson’s wife, she was there; she was the worst of all:
She pulled her skirts above her head and shouted: “Fuck it all!”
(insert name) he was there; he played a wily game:
He did his lassie fourteen times before he finally came!
(name) and (name) they were there, and they were quite a pair,
Each did a lassie seven times, and never touched the hair!
(insert name) he was there, up to his old trick:
Dancin’ naked ’round the room, pirouettin’ on his prick!
(insert name) he was there, but he wouldna’ dance,
Just sat there with his ten-inch rise, a-waitin’ for his chance!
(insert name) he was there; he was the perfect fool:
He sat beneath the old oak tree, and whittled off his tool!
(insert name) he was there, up from Dungaree
With a yard-and-a-half of Glory, that hung below his knee!
The Queen, she had a chicken, the King he had a duck,
So they put them on the table to see if they would fight!
The cows were wearin’ bridles, the horses wearin’ bits
The Queen she wore two harness-rings thru the nipples of her tits!
(insert name) he was there, grinnin’ at the Queen
He’d built himself a dildo, and powered it by steam!
(insert name) he was there, that rowdy rantin’ bloke
Masturbatin’ all by himself with a backhand double stroke!
The Royal Fool was also there, sittin’ in the hall,
Tryin’ to do a mongoose with an india-rubber ball!
(insert name) he was there, that egocentric elf,
The ladies were na’ guid enough, so he went and fucked himself!
(insert name) she was there, and she was very strange:
You stick a dollar in her cunt, she’d spit back 10 cents change!
(insert name) he was there, but he was fast asleep
The ladies wouldna have him, and we’d run clean out of sheep!
Alternate CHORUS: Singin’ who hae ye, lassie?
Who hae ye noo?
The ane that had ye last time
He canna hae ye noo!
(insert name) he was there, big and strong and mean,
Out behind the bushes, boys, picking his next Queen!
They tried it on the garden path, and once around the park,
And when the candles snotted out, they diddled in the dark!
First they did it simple, then they tried it he’s and she’s,
But before the ball was over, they went at it fives and threes!
The groom was in the corner, oiling up his tool,
The bride was in the icebox, her private parts to cool!
(insert name) (s)he was there, backed against the wall,
(s)he didn’t want the doin’s, just a lot of alcohol!
First lady over, second lady front,
Third lady’s finger up the fourth lady’s cunt!
Fifth lady worn and dry, sixth lady passed,
Seventh lady’s finger up the eighth lady’s ass!
Ninth lady forward, tenth lady back,
Eleventh lady’s finger in the twelfth lady’s crack!
(insert name) he was there, givin’ happy sighs!
His rise had used up so much skin he couldna close his eyes!
A strapping Scotsman he was there, known to all as “Ronald”
His rise it weighed a quarter-pound…he must be a MacDonald!
Bunny Foo-foo he was there, hoppin’ thru the wood,
Doin’ the Good Fairy like a horny rabbit should!
Big Goon Foo-Foo, he was there, stomping thru the weeds
Buggering the Good Fairy ( his attitudes have NEEDS! )
Monty Python, they were there, with their ferocious MOOSE,
“The bloody parrot’s bloomin’ DEAD; ‘e canna reproduce!”
(insert name), that randy wench, she was also there,
And thirty men were suckit dry before she stopped for air!
(name) and (name) they were there, havin’ themselves a ball,
She hiccuped as he took her, and she swallowed him, shoes and all!
The Kingdom Marshal, he was there, full of botheration,
For nobody signed a waiver for the evening’s fornication!
(insert name) she was there, and she was lookin’ pert,
With six or seven Cavaliers underneath her skirt!
(insert name) was also there, with his feather-bed,
And on the bedposts he had marked his score of maidenheads!
Santa Claus was also there, and very drunk, I fear,
You’d be drunk there with him if you came just once a year!
(insert name) he was there, and he was smooth and slick,
Tallyin’ up his score that night by notches on his prick!
The village dwarf was also there, that randy little runt,
He’d dive upon a lassie, headfirst in her cunt!
(insert name) she was there, the fattest of the lot,
So they rolled her up in flour, and looked for the wettest spot!
(insert name) (s)he was there, hid behind a mask,
God knows what (s)he was doin’, lads, we didna stop to ask!
(insert name) was also there, (s)he was a sight to see,
They bent him (her) o’er the table, and the rest was Greek to me!
James the First and Sixth was there, a sight you should have seen,
He was the King of England but preferred to be the Queen!
(insert name) he was there, but he was runnin’ late,
Askin’ round from man to man just how to copulate!
(insert name) was also there, but he was fast asleep,
Cuddled up, with a happy grin, beside his rubber sheep!
The (insert name) all were there, that’s what I presume,
They buggered themselves into a chain, and danced around the room!
(insert name) she was there, and she was wondrous wise,
With “USDA Grade A Choice”, tattooed on her thighs!
(insert name) he was there, sittin’ on a stump,
Masturbation was his choice; he didn’t know how to hump!
(insert name) was also there, doin’ his famous stunt:
Braidin’ all the pubic hair on every single cunt!
Anne Bolyn was also there, even tho she’s dead,
She’s terrific on her back, me boys, but better giving head!
Cyrano de Bergerac, dressed in fancy clothes,
He wouldna use his pecker, lads, he did ’em with his nose!
Pinocchio was also there, and quite a sight to see,
The ladies sat upon his face and shouted “Lie to me!”
Cyrano de Bergerac diddled, with a poem,
And ended his refrain with the words: “Thrust home!”
(insert name) was also there, and he was lookin’ cute,
He didna use his pecker, lads, he did ’em with his lute!
ALTERNATE CHORUS:
Singin’ balls to your partner,
Arse against the wall!
If you can’t get laid at Pennsic (Estrella)
Then you can’t get laid at all!
Good King (insert name) he was there, looking very regal;
He wrapped his pecker in duct-tape to make it combat-legal!
(insert name) she was there, lookin’ woebegone,
‘Cause when you spread her legs, me boys, a little light comes on!
(insert name) (s)he was there, havin’ quite a ball!
Shoutin’ out “When I am (King/Queen), I’m gonna screw you all!”
All the (insert name) they were there, scratchin’ at their jocks,
Doin’ things like parakeets, and unsuspecting rocks!
(insert name) was sitting there, filled up with remorse,
He’d got a little drunk that night, and did his lady’s horse!
(insert name) was also there, with his brand-new bride,
But when he opened up her legs, his pet canary died!
(insert name) he was there, he canna see at all,
So he satisfied his urgin’s at a knothole in the wall!
(insert name) he was there, his brain is in his cock,
He dragged his lady off by the heels, and filled her up with rocks!
(insert name) he was there, feelin’ full of oats:
He diddled his lady from Land’s End all the way to John O’Groats!
Elanor of Aquitane was dancin’ round the room,
She didn’t like the Lily, so she took up with the Broom!
Elanor of Aquitane was very, very nice . . .
She didn’t like French Culture, so she tried the English Vice!
Everybody heard about the Ball of Ballyknure,
With four-and-twenty Countesses, a-fuckin’ on the floor!
The King of (insert name), worked up a head of steam,
And all the Duchesses in sight yelled out “God save the Queen!”
Good old (insert name) he was there, takin’ up the slack,
Separatin’ the men from boys with a chromium bumper jack!
(insert name) was also there, and he is Very Pure;
We think he has a pecker, lads, though no one’s very sure!
(insert name) was also there, and she was very shocked,
When she heard a shepherd boy yell “Lady, go get flocked!”
All the lads and lasses there were mated, ones-and-twos,
Except for good old (insert name) who came inside his shoes!
There was doin’s in the hallway, doin’s on the stairs,
It was the biggest doin’ there had been for years and years!
There was doin’s in the roses, in the grass and in the rocks,
When (insert name) caught his sporran in some giant hollyhocks!
It looked sae funny hangin’ there, that everybody jeered,
They’d never seen a hollyhock that ever wore a beard……!
Guid old Jock McNorris took his partner by the arm,
And grinned, and said “Another ‘do’ won’t do us any harm!”
They were doin’ it in the garden, they were doin’ it all around,
There were folks a-doin’ on every inch of ground!
(insert name) he was there, sittin’ on his tush,
He never made it to the point, just “beat around the bush…!”
William of the Shire was there, he wasna’ in the race,
He wouldna’ use his pecker, so he did ’em with his mace!
There were lassies with the syphllis, and lassies wi’ the piles,
And lassies wi’ their hinder parts all wreathed up in smiles!
The village magician he was there, doin’ his vanishin’ trick:
He pulled his foreskin over his head, and vanished in his prick!
There were doin’s in the gravel, there were doin’s in the stones
You couldna’ hear the music for the wheezin’ and the groans!
There was doin’s on the sofa, there was doin’s in the chair,
And when they found the trampoline, there was doin’s in the air!
Soon all the Duchesses began to sing this song
And it was twice as dirty, and fourteen times as long!
The Sheriff of the Shire in the corner he did stand,
Giving his Staff of Office a polishin’ with his hand.
The village blacksmith he was there, but he was not for hire:
He was making giant rubbers out of a tractor tire!
The village baker he was there, and looking pretty mean;
A-shouting that the girls were tarts, and pumping them full of cream!
The village blacksmith he was there, his balls were made of brass,
And every time he laid a girl the sparks flew out his ass!
The village hooker she was there, a-lying on the floor,
And every time she ope’d her legs, the suction closed the door!
Little Johnny he was there, but he was only eight;
He couldn’t go join in the fun, he had to masturbate!
The blacksmith’s wife she was there, a-sitting by the fire,
Performin’ abortions by the hour with a piece of red hot wire!
(insert name), she was there, that wicked little slut!
Performin’ things unspeakable wi’ a North Sea halibut!
(insert name) was also there, a-playin’ fast and loose;
Rompin’ ’round the barley fields with Marvin de la Moose!
(insert name), she was there, a lady quite perverse;
She’d worn out all the peckers so she went from bed to wurst!
(insert name), she was there, and she is past eighteen;
She is a rapier fighter, so she diddled Florentine!
(insert name) he was there, all filled up with lust,
He’d had so many lassies that his pecker just shot dust!
The Musketeers were also there, and they were fast and quick,
You should have seen their doin’s with their muzzle-loading prick!
(insert name), he was there, but he had run amuck
He diddled geese and chickens and a passing Mallard duck!
(insert name) he was there, with his sharp Chibouk,
While nobody was watchin’ him, he diddled him a Duke!
(insert name) he was there, and he is most discreet
Underneath the bedsheets wi’ his favorite parakeet!
A Corsair captain he was there, he shouted out “Ahoy!”
We’d run clean out of lassies so he did his cabin-boy!
Stick your hand beneath my kilt; I’m a gruesome troubador!
And if you stick it there again, you’ll see it grew some more!
All the Peers were also there, and they refused to work,
So they sat around in Circles, and they had a Circle-jerk!
“What the hell’s a ‘sporran’?” the lassie loudly begged;
She was answered: “It’s the hairy thing between a Scotsman’s legs!”
(insert Irish name) he was there, doin’ dogs and such,
You can always tell an Irishman, but y’canna tell him much!
(insert name) was also there, he is an awful churl
He poked a hole into the ground, and diddled the whole world!
(insert name) was at the Ball, he’s really quite bizarre,
We locked him in the closet while he diddled his guitar!
The village policeman he was there, the pride of all the force
They found him in the stable, whacking off his horse!
There were doin’s in the parlor, there was doin’s in the grass
And all that you could see were waves of undulating ass!
(insert name) he was there, and he was long and high,
But when he did her forty times, he was doin’ mighty dry!
(insert name) he was there, his prick was long and broad
But when he did the Duchess, well, she had to be re-bored!
(insert name) had an even stroke, his skill was much admired
He diddled one cunt at a time until his skill expired….!
The village builder he was there, he brought his bag of tricks
He poured cement in all the cunts and blunted all the pricks!
(insert name) he was there, the leader of the choir,
He hit the balls of all the boys to make their voices higher
Another idiot, he was there, leanin’ on the gate
He couldn’a find a cunny, so he had to flatulate!
The village doctor he was there, he had his bag of tricks
And in between the dances he was sterilizing pricks!
(insert name) he was there, a-lookin’ for a fuck
But all the cunts were occupied, and he was out of luck!
The Vicar and his lovely wife were havin’ lots of fun:
The Vicar had his finger up another lady’s bum!
There was fuckin’ on the couches, and doin’s in the punts
And linin’ up against the wall were rows of grinnin’ cunts!
(insert name) he played a dirty trick, we canna let it pass
He showed his lass his mighty prick, and shoved it up her ass!
The village plumber he was there, he felt an awful fool;
He’d come eleven leagues or more and forgot to bring his tool!
The smithy’s brother he was there, a mighty man is he;
He lined them up against the wall, and shagged ’em three by three!
There was doin’s on the highway, there was doin’s in the lanes,
You couldn’a here the music for the rattlin’ of the stanes!
There was doin’s on the couches, there was doin’s on the cots,
And linin’ up against the wall were rows of drooling twats!
(insert name) he was there, drunk beyond a doot,
He tried to stuff the Parson’s wife, but couldna’ get the root!
(insert name) he was there and he was in despair,
He couldna’ get his pecker thru the tangled pubic hair!
(insert name) did his doin’s right upon the moor,
It was, he thought, much better than doin’ on the floor!
(insert name) he was there, his prick was all alert
But when only half the night was done, t’was danglin’ in the dirt!
The doctor’s daughter, she was there, she went to gather sticks
She couldna’ find a blade of grass for cunts and standing pricks!
ALTERNATE CHORUS:
Singin’ who did ye last, lass,
Who’s doin’ ye noo,
The one tha’ did ye last, lassie
Canna do ye noo.
The village blacksmith he was there, roarin’ like a lion,
He’d cut his prick off at the forge, so he used a red-hot iron!
The Mayor of the village, was doin’ by the rule;
Partin’ all the pubic hairs and wadin’ thru the drool!
Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean,
So she did the Fubba-Wubbas, while he diddled a Marine.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
With pussy fair, and pubic hair, and peckers in a row!
There was doin’s in the kitchen, there was doin’s in the halls
You couldna hear the music for the clangin’ of the balls!
The Parson’s daughter, she was there, the cunning little runt,
With poison ivy up her ass, and thistles up her cunt!
(insert name) was also there, this I must confess:
Buggerin’ at the Parson’s cat; it’s “pussy” none the less!
(insert name) he was there, a pervert all his life;
He didna do the lassies . . . he only did his wife!
I have a little pussy, her coat it is so warm,
And if she douches regular, she won’t do me no harm!
Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water;
They spent the day a-diddlin’, doin’ things they shouldn’t oughter!
Ivan the Terrible he was there, that filthy Russian cad,
The Boyars called him “Terrible,” the ladies said “Not bad!”
(insert Arabic name) he was there, in his white burnoose,
He sat down at the table and he called for “Cunt au jus!”
I’m a pain-in-the-ass, me boys, for singin’ this awful song,
But if I’m a pain-in-the-ass, me lass, I’m doin’ you all wrong!
The village economist, he was there, his slide rule in his hand,
Figuring out exactly when supply would meet demand.
Henry the Fifth, he was there, and this is what he said:
“Once more out of your breeks, my friends, and give me English head!”
The KaKhan of the Horde was there, and he is very smelly;
“First you rape, and then you burn; that’s how to be rake-helly!”
Ghengis Khan he was there, and he was such a fright!
“First you burn, and THEN you rape; ’tis best by firelight!”
(insert name) he was there, and he is big and hairy;
He spent the evening with a will, pluckin’ virgin cherries!
The Parson’s wife was there that night, sittin’ by the fire,
Knittin’ prophalactics with a rubber wire.
(insert name) was at the Ball, lookin’ pretty grumpy;
His pecker isn’t very long…the ladies call him “Stumpy!”
(insert name) was at the Ball, for this he is renowned:
His pecker is so very long, it drags along the ground!
(insert name) (s)he was there, and lookin’ pretty foul,
Doin’ seven horses, two chinchillas, and an owl!
The King is the biggest prick you’ve ever seen;
We may cry “God save the King,” but, Lords, God save the Queen!
My Lady went to London, my Lady went to France,
My Lady goes to Fredrick’s to buy her underpants!
My Lady’s very beautiful, and this is what she wears:
Jewelry, and fancy gowns, but NEVER underwear!
(insert name) she was there, lyin’ in the grass,
With “Property of (insert household name)” tatooed on her ass!
(insert name) he was there; we did a double-take,
When we saw him gettin’ sexual with a shovel and a rake!
The yurt was getting noisy, the yurt was getting loud;
It was a Mongolian Cluster Fuck, and drawing quite a crowd!
The Old Professor, he was there, sittin’ on a shelf,
Demonstratin’ to all concerned how Man Makes Himself!
Dracula was also there, dressed up in his cape,
Explainin’ to Van Helsing that “It vasn’t really rape!”
The Computer Nerd he was there, his life was mighty rough,
Complainin’ that the wet-ware wasn’t wet enough!
And now, here are some childrens’ verses from Smoking Wiener . . .
Mother Goose, she was there, reading children books,
And every time she flashed the kids, you should have seen the looks.
Humpty Dumpty he was there, sitting on the wall,
Wouldn’t come down to get him some, he didn’t have the balls.
Old Mother Hubbard she was there, with her best friend Rover,
When she bent over, Rover took over, and she got some bone of her own.
Little Bo-Peep she was there, tending to her flock,
You could have heard a pin drop, when she removed her lacy frock.
Jack Sprat he was there, looking mighty thin,
And every time he frigged his wife, He nearly did fall in.
Jack Sprat’s wife she was there, eating all she could,
When she found Pinnochio, she chomped down on his wood.
Little Miss Muffet she was there, eating her curds and whey,
Said the spider who sat down beside her, I’m looking to have my way.
Nimble Jack he was there, tired of candle sticks,
He was jumping on the little boys, and landing on their pricks.
Pinnochio he was there, sporting morning wood,
Giving splinters to all the girls, just because he could.
Jimminy Cricket he was there, whispering in their ear,
The girls ignored his advice, and the boys all thought him queer.
Little Boy Blue he was there, his rod was red with fire,
Bo-Peep claimed to be a virgin, but she was just a liar.
The cat with the fiddle he was there, playing a fine tune,
The little dog laughed as he licked himself, while cumming on the spoon.
Three men in a tub they were there, floating in the bay,
The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick maker, it seems they are quite gay.
Wee Willie Winkie he was there, running through the town,
Wearing next to nothing, but a lacy little gown.
Hansel and Gretel they were there, getting on really hot,
While they were busy playing, the witch tossed them in the pot.
The Big Bad Wolf he was there, cum dripping from his chin,
He came across the hunter, and then went down on him.
Little Red Riding Hood she was there, carrying a little basket,
Had her way with the wolf, now he’s in a casket.
Rapunzel she was there, with long and flowing tresses,
She played with all the little boys, and made them wear her dresses.
Rumpelstilskin he was there, sleeping under a tree,
A little doggy found him there, and filled his mouth with pee.
Johnny Appleseed he was there, riding on his steed,
Tempting the girls with apples, then filling them with his seed.
Babe the Blue Ox he was there, he really was quite hung,
There only was one problem, he filled the place with dung.
Paul Bunyan he was there, hands so big and strong,
And if that don’t impress you much, take a gander at his dong.
Sleeping Beauty she was there, laying on her back,
When the Seven Dwarfs arrived, each one tried out her crack.
Snow White she was there, riding in her carriage,
But now that she’s had her horses, she’ll never consider marriage.
Cinderella she was there, covered in ash and soot,
Said “If I ever tire of my hand, I’ll please myself with my foot!”
The Tooth Fairy she was there, holding a silver dollar,
Pulled their teeth out of their mouths, just to hear them holler.
Farmer Jack he was there, beanstalk in his hand,
Amusing himself, abusing himself, playing with his gland.
The Little Mermaid she was there, smelling just like fish,
The little lobster took a chance, and found her quite a dish.
The Pied Piper he was there, playing his pipe so shrill,
When he placed it ‘tween Mary’s legs, she really got a thrill.
Little Mary she was there, on her way to school,
‘Twas the little lamb by her side, that made the farm boys drool.
Goldie Locks she was there, trying everything in sight,
And when she saw what Papa Bear had, she decided to spend the night.
The Ugly Duckling he was there, much squawking did he make,
While going down on Mother Goose, to make her insides quake.
The Magic Genie he was there, appearing from his lamp,
He pleaded with the damsel, to let him make her damp.
Beauty and the Beast were there, she was tugging on his mane,
Pulling him inside her, and crying from the strain.
The Mouse and Lion they were there, the lion cried in pain,
Roared the lion to the mouse, please hit me there again.
The Princess she was there, a dozen mattresses on a pea,
“I just can’t get to sleep” she said, “without a man inside of me.”
The Emperor he was there, sporting his new suit,
The little girls a giggle, they found his pecker cute.
The Prince and Pauper they were there, exchanging all their clothes,
But the Pauper drew the line, at wearing the Prince’s hose.
Little Jack Horner he was there, licking on his thumbl
Thinking it might taste better, if he stuck in up his bum.
Mary, Mary she was there, she made all good things grow,
When she warmed your mighty cockles, with a tawdry little show.
The First Little Pig he was there, he’d built his house quite frail,
And when the Bad Wolf came to town, he snagged some curly tail.
The Second Little Pig he was there, he built his house of stick,
And when the Bad Wolf came to town, the piglet sucked his dick.
The Third Little Pig he was there, his house was made of brick,
And when the Bad Wolf came to town, he had no pig to prick.
The Big Bad Wolf he was there, his face it was aglow,
He’d huffed and pufffed upon himself, his load he could not blow.
The Dalmatians they were there, frolicking on the grass,
One, he wasn’t normal, and took the others up the ass.
THE BANANA SONG
Melody – Yes, We Have No Bananas
Contributed by Stray Dog
Yes, we have no ba-nan-as,
We have no ba-nan-as to-day.
We’ve limp ones and thick ones and ravages and sick ones,
And all kinds of dicks and say!
We have an old, fash-ioned cu-cum-ber,
To please you till you slum-ber.
But, yes we have no ba-nan-as,
We have no ba-nan-as today.
THE BAND PLAYED ON
Melody – And the Band Played On
Contributed by Zippy
Casey got hit with a bucket of shit
And the band played on.
He waltzed ’round the floor and got hit with some more
And the band played on.
His balls were so loaded, they nearly exploded
The poor girl she shook with alarm.
He married the bitch with the seven-year itch
And the band played on.
BARCELONA
Melody – Manana
Last verse by Ian Cumming, New York HHH
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Manana, manana,
Is my banana good for you? O-le!
Way down in Barcelona, where ladies learn to knit,
A lady stuck a knitting needle in another lady’s tit.
Said the lady to the lady, “We’re here to learn to knit,
Not to stick a knitting needle in another lady’s tit.”
Way down in Barcelona, where drummers play the drum,
A drummer stuck a drumstick up another drummer’s bum.
Said the drummer to the drummer, “We’re here to play the drum,
Not stick a drumstick up another drummer’s bum.”
Way down in Barcelona, where lepers decompose,
A leper picked a snotty from another leper’s nose.
Said the leper to the leper, “We’re here to decompose,
Not to pick a snotty from another leper’s nose.”
Way down in Barcelona, where ladies learn to swim,
A lady put her finger up another lady’s quim.
Said the lady to the lady, “We’re here to learn to swim,
Not to put our fingers up another lady’s quim.”
Way down in Barcelona, where beggars beg for food,
A beggar chucked a lunger in another beggar’s gruel.
Said the beggar to the beggar, “We’re here to beg for food,
Not to chuck a lunger in another beggar’s gruel.”
Way down in Barcelona, where wankers yank their crank,
A wanker took a yank of another wanker’s crank.
Said the wanker to the wanker, “We’re here to yank our crank,
Not to yank a crank off another wanker’s crank.”
Way down in New York City,
Where the cabbies drive so fast.
A cabby rammed his cab up another cabbie’s ass,
Said the cabby to the cabby,
(Wind down window)
“FUCK YOU, BUDDY!”
BLINDED BY SHIT
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
Contributed by Zippy
Also see “Madeline Schmidt”)
There was an old lady, I’d have you to know.
Who went up to London a short time ago.
She liked it quite well and thought she would stay.
The neighbors were tickled when she went away.
Now when this old lady retired for the night,
She said, “Oh gor blimey I believe I must shite.”
There’s no use in talking about things that have past.
So she went to the window and out went her ass.
There was an old watchman who chanced to pass by,
Looked up and got a chunk of shit right in the eye.
He put up his hand to see where he was hit.
He says, “Oh gor blimey, I’m blinded with shit.”
Now this poor watchman was blinded for life.
He had five health children and a fine fucking wife,
On a London street corner you may now see him sit.
With sign on his chest reading, “Blinded by shit.”
BRITISH SAILOR
Melody – Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking
Contributed by Hazukashii, Samurai HHH
Note: Should be sung in high voice with accent
CHORUS:
Me no likey British sailor (Blitish sailor)
Yankee pay five dollar more (five dolla mo)
Yankee calls me honey baby
British calls me fucking whore
Yankee knocks upon my window
British kicks in fuckin’ door
Yankee cocks are sometimes limpy
British cocks, they leave me sore
Yankee lays me on a pillow
British fucks me on the floor
Yankee tender kissed my nipples
British licks my pussy raw
Yankee treats me like his mother
British fucks me on all fours
CACTUS IN MY Y-FRONTS
Melody – Yellow Rose of Texas
From Francis “Dirty Dingus” Turner, Agnews CA HHH
CHORUS:
I’ve got cactus in my Y-fronts,
A vulture on my head,
I’ve just been kissed by a Tennessee miss,
And I wish that I was dead.
I’ve a jock strap made of leather,
That tickles, hee, hee, hee,
But the cactus in my Y-fronts,
Made a loser out of me.
I was up in Cripple Creek,
I was dying for a leak,
So I dropped behind a cactus there,
And when I did up my belt,
I can’t tell you how it felt,
But I knew the meaning of a prickly pear.
I went down to Nevada,
Where the girls try so much harder,
And I met a cute young thing called Caroline,
But each time she felt my prickles,
She said “Goodness me that tickles!”
Now she’s gone and run off with a porcupine.
In Cal-i-for-ni-a,
Where the rustlers are so gay,
I bought a gentle gee-gee name of Jack,
But he livened up a lot,
When he felt my brickly bot,
That buckin’ bronco broke my bloomin’ back.
CAN YOU WALK A LITTLE WAY?
Melody – Billy Boy
Contributed by Stray Dog
(Harriers sing questions, harriettes sing answers):
Can you walk a little way,
With it in, with it in?
Can you walk a little way,
With it in-nnn?
I can do it with a smile,
I can walk a bloody mile,
For I love you and I want to be a mother.
Can you pour me frosty beer,
With it in, with it in?
Can you pour me frosty beer,
With it in-nnn?
I can poor your frosty beer,
Even with your mug in here,
For I love you and I want to be a mother.
Can you sing a pretty tune,
With it in, with it in?
Can you sing a pretty tune,
With it in-nnn?
I can sing a pretty tune,
Under your most handsome moon,
For I love you and I want to be a mother.
Can you drive my father’s car,
With it in, with it in?
Can you drive my father’s car,
With it in-nnn?
I can drive your father’s car,
To the local village bar,
For I love you and I want to be a mother.
How soon can you let go,
With it in, with it in?
How soon can you let go,
With it in-nnn?
I cannot let it go,
Un-til your seeds you sow,
For I love you and I want to be a mother.
THE CHANDLER’S SHOP
Melody – Itself
Also known as “Rat-a-Tat-Tat”
A boy went into a chandler’s shop, some candles for to buy,
But when he got to the chandler’s shop, no chandler did he spy,
He loudly knocked, he loudly cried, enough to wake the dead,
But all he heard was a rat-a-tat-tat, right above his head.
Now he was a very inquisitive youth, so up the stairs he went,
And he was very surprised to find the chandler’s wife in bed,
For she was lying upon her back with a man betweenher thighs,
And they were having a rat-a-tat-tat, right before his eyes.
And when the deed was over, the wife she raised her head,
And she was very surprised to find the boy beside the bed,
“Now if you can keep a secret, boy, to you I will be kind,
And you can have a rat-a-tat-tat, whenever you feel inclined.”
CHICAGO (Two Versions)
Melody – The Bear Went Over the Mountain
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
I used to work in Chicago,
In a department store,
I used to work in Chicago,
I don’t work there any more.
VERSION # 1:
A lady came into the hatshop,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Felt,” she said,
Felt her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a water-bottle,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Rubber,” she said,
Rub her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a sweater,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Jumper,” she said,
Jump her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a ticket,
I asked, “Where would you like to go?”
“Bangor,” she said,
Bang her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some coffee,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Ground,” she said,
Grind her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some gin,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
“Beefeater,” she said,
Eat her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a cake,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Layer,” she said,
Lay her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for some service,
I asked, “How fast do you want it?”
“Quick,” she said,
Prick her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some carpet,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Pile,” she said,
Shagged her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a diskette,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
“Floppy,” she said,
Hard drive her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for a bath mat,
I asked “What size would you like?”
“Shower,” she said,
Show her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a down quilt,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
“Goose,” she said,
Goose her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some lamp oil,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
“Whale,” she said,
Sperm her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for a power drill,
I asked, “What brand would you like?”
“Black & Decker,” she said,
Deck her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a drink,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Liquor,” she said,
Lick her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some Air Wick,
I asked, “What scent would you like?”
“Mountain,” she said,
Mount her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a sleeper,
I asked, “What berth would you like?”
“Upper,” she said,
Up her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some china,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Bone,” she said,
Bone her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some dish soap,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Johnson & Johnson,” she said,
My Johnson she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for some wood shoes,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“Clog,” she said,
Flog her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a curtain,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
“Drape,” she said,
Rape her I did,
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for a new coat,
I asked “What kind would you like?”
He said, “Something nice.”
He went home with lice.
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for a rental,
I asked, “What kind would you like?”
“A U-Haul,” he said,
Haul his ashes I did,
I don’t work there any more.
VERSION # 2:
A lady came in for some stockings,
Some stockings from the store,
Stockings she wanted,
A hosing she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some carpet,
Some carpet from the store,
Carpet she wanted,
Laid she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some nails,
Some nails from the store,
Nails she wanted,
Screwed she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for a balloon,
A balloon from the store,
Balloon he wanted,
Blown he got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for some wool,
Some wool from the store,
Wool she wanted,
Felt she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for some carpet,
Some carpet from the store,
Shag he wanted,
Piles he got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for metaphysical conversation,
Metaphysical conversation from the store,
Metaphysical conversation she wanted,
Fucked she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for a lollipop,
A lollipop from the store,
A sucker he wanted,
Sucked he got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for drain cleaner,
Drain cleaner from the store,
Drano she wanted,
Clean pipes she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a pony,
A pony from the store,
Horse she wanted,
Ridden she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for some wheels,
Some wheels from the store,
Wheels he wanted,
Rimmed he got,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for a doughnut,
A doughnut from the store,
Glazed she wanted,
Creme-filled she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a throw rug,
A throw rug from the store,
Rug she wanted,
Rug-burned she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a watchspring,
A watchspring from the store,
Watchspring she wanted,
Boinged she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a T-bone,
A T-bone from the store,
T-bone she wanted,
Boneless round she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for toy sailors,
Toy sailors from the store,
Toy sailors she wanted,
Semen she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a canned ham,
Canned ham from the store,
Armour she wanted,
Porked she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A woman came in for gift wrapping,
Gift wrapping from the store,
Wrapping she wanted,
A stuffing she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a beefsteak,
Beefsteak from the store,
Chuck she wanted,
Fucked she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a novel,
A novel from the store,
Dickens she wanted,
Dick she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for cigarettes,
Cigarettes from the store,
Camels she wanted,
Humped she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for an iron,
An iron from the store,
Steam she wanted,
Reamed she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A widow came in for some sympathy,
Sympathy from the store,
Sympathy she wanted,
Syphilis she got,
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for assistance,
Assistance from the store,
Help she wanted,
AIDS she got,
I don’t work there any more.
BONUS EXHIBITIONIST VERSES FOR HARRIERS AND HARRIETTES:
A lady/man came in for some aspirin,
Some aspirin from the store,
Aspirin she/he wanted,
Crack she/he got,
(shoot moon)
I don’t work there any more.
A lady/man came in for some film,
Some film from the store,
Color she wanted,
Exposed she got,
(expose dick/tits)
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a computer,
A computer from the store,
Apple she wanted,
My Wang she got,
(expose dick)
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for a pet,
A pet from the store,
A puppy he wanted,
My pussy he got,
(expose same)
I don’t work there any more.
A man came in for some deoderant,
Some deoderant from the store,
Right Guard he wanted,
My right tit he got,
(expose same)
I don’t work there any more.
A lady (or man) came in for some Wrigley’s,
Some Wrigley’s from the store,
Gum she (he) wanted,
My bum she got,
(shoot moon)
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for molasses,
Molasses from the store,
Sorghum she wanted,
My scrotum she got,
(expose same)
I don’t work there any more.
A man came into Lost & Found,
Lost & Found at the store,
“My package, I left it.”
I showed him my left tit,
(expose same)
I don’t work there any more.
A lady came in for a video,
A video from the store,
Free Willy she wanted,
Free Willy I did,
(do same)
I don’t work there any more.
THE CHISHOLM TRAIL
Melody – The Chisholm Trail
Now gather ’round, boys, and listen to my tale,
And I’ll tell you my troubles on the old Chisholm Trail.
CHORUS (VERSION # 1):
Singing, ki-yi-yippy, yippy-yay, yippy-yay,
Singing , ki-yi-yippy, yippy-yay.
CHORUS (VERSION # 2):
Gonna tie my pecker to my leg, to my leg,
Gonna tie my pecker to my leg.
My name’s Bill Taylor and my love’s a squaw,
Livin’ on the banks of the muddy Washita.
I come from Texas with the longhorn cattle,
On a ten-dollar horse and a forty-dollar saddle.
Sittin’ in the saddle with my hand on my dong,
Shootin ‘jism on the cattle as we go along.
We left Texas on October twenty-third,
And traveled up the trail with the 2-U herd.
We didn’t reach town till winter, Eighty-two,
My ass was draggin’ and my pecker was too.
I went huntin’ tail from a parlor house whore,
But I didn’t have enough, so they kicked me out the door.
With my ass in the saddle and my pecker all sore,
I spied a little lady in the whorehouse door.
I asked for tail and I gave her a quarter,
And she says, “Young man, I’m a minister’s daughter.”
I took out a dollar and I put it in her hand,
And she says, “young man, will your long pecker stand?”
I grabbed right hold and I throwed her on the grass,
My toe-hold slipped and I rammed it in her ass.
I fucked her standin’ and I fucked her lyin’,
If she’d a-had wings, I’d a-fucked her flyin’.
Five days later, my prick turned blue,
I ran to the doctor and he didn’t know what to do.
So I went to another and he said, “Cough,”
I coughed so hard my balls dropped off.
I went to another ’cause my pecker was sore,
“By God,” said the doctor, “It’s that same damn whore.”
So I sold my horse and I sold my saddle,
And I bid goodbye to the longhorn cattle.
The last time I seen her and I ain’t seen her since,
She was scratching her cunt on a barbed wire fence.
THE CLINTSTONES
Melody – The Flintstones
The Clintstones . . . meet the Clintstones . . .
They’re the modern liberal family.
From the . . . town of Little Rock . . .
They’re a page right out of ’60’s history.
Let’s riot, with the Blacks on down the street,
So we’ll, have more laws by trickery and deceit.
When you’re . . . with the Clintstones . . .
You’ll have a Bubba downs Big Mac time . . .
A Rodham does Reno time . . .
You’ll have a gay old time.
CLEAN SONG
Melody – Sweet Betsy From Pike
There was a young sailor who
Looked through the glass,
Looked through the glass,
Looked through the glass,
He spied a young mermaid with scales on her
Frightfully clean island where seagulls fly over their nests
As she combed the long hair that fell over her
Shoulders and caused her to tickle and itch,
Yelled a sailor, “Well I’ll be a son of a
Beautiful mermaid out there on the rocks”
And the crew came a-running, their hands on their
Caps while they crowded four deep on the rail
All eager to share in this fine piece of
Talk which the captain soon heard from the watch
So he tied down the wheel and unbottoned his
Crackers and cheese which he kept near the door
In hopes he might come on a sea-going
Happy, he knew he must use all his wits
So he called for a line to make fast to her
Tail, saying “Boys, we are finally going to find
Whether mermaids do better before or
Be brave, me good fellows,” the captain next said
“And with luck we’ll break through her maiden
Heading to starboard,” they tacked with dispatch
And caught that fair mermaid right on the
Side and immediately hustled her down below decks
Where each had a crack at this wonder of
Setting her free after each had a pass
They tossed her back with a pat on her
After a while they all noticed some scabs
And soon they broke out with the pox and the
Cursing and scratching, you know what I mean
This song may be dull, but it’s frightfully clean.
COLD WINTER’S EVENING
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/o-leary-s-bar/
‘Twas a cold winter’s evening,
The guests were all leaving,
O’Leary was closing the bar,
When he turned and he said,
To the lady in red,
“Get out! You can’t stay where you are.”
Oh, she wept a sad tear,
In her bucket of beer,
As she thought of the cold night ahead,
When a gentleman dapper,
Stepped out from the crapper,
And these are the words that he said:
“Her mother never taught her
The things a young girl should know,
About the ways of English (or Hasher) men,
And they way they come and go (mostly come)
Age had stolen her beauty,
And sin has left its sad scar (you know where)
So remember your mothers and sisters, boys,
And let her sleep under the bar (with O’Leary)
COLOSTOMY’S BEST
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4, modified by Flying Booger
CHORUS:
Colostomy’s best, boys,
Colostomy’s best – SHIT IN A BAGGIE!
Colostomy’s best, boys,
Colostomy’s best.
Rub some shit on your clit, girls,
Rub some shit on your clit – COLOSTOMY!
Rub some shit on your clit, girls,
Rub some shit on your clit, ’cause . . .
OTHER VERSES:
Take a dump in a bag, guys
Shit through a slit in your side, Clyde
The Hershey highway is my way, boys
Stick your tool in her stool, boys
Get down in her brown, guys
Whack off in her sack, Jack
Fart through a cut in your gut, boys
Make doo-doo without a loo, Stu
COMIN’ THRO’ THE RYE
Melody – Comin’ Thro’ the Rye
By Robert Burns, contributed by Zippy
Gin a body meet a body,
Comin’ thro’ the rye;
Gin a body fuck a body,
Need a body cry?
Chorus:
Comin’ thro’ the rye, my jo,
An’ comin’ thro’ the rye;
She found a prick that did the trick,
While comin’ thro’ the rye.
Gin a body meet a body,
Comin’ thro’ the glen;
Gin a body fuck a body,
Need the warld ken.
Gin a body meet a body,
Comin’ thro’ the grain;
Gin a body fuck a body,
Cunt’s a body’s ain.
Gin a body meet a body,
By a body’s sel;
What na body fucks a body,
Was a body tell.
Mony a body meet a body,
They dare na weel avow;
Mony a body fucks a body,
Ye wadna think it true.
COUNTRY SUNDAY SCHOOL
Melody – ???
Politically-correct version of “Darkie Sunday School”
CHORUS:
Young folk, old folk,
Everybody come,
To the country Sunday School,
And we’ll have lots of fun.
Bring your sticks of chewing gum,
And sit upon the floor,
And we’ll tell you Bible stories,
That you never heard before.
Now Adam was the first man,
So we’re lead to believe,
He walked into the garden,
And bumped right into Eve,
There was no one there to show him,
But he quickly found the way,
And that’s the very reason,
Why we’re singing here today.
The Lord said unto Noah,
“It’s going to rain today,”
So Noah built a bloody great Ark,
In which to sail away.
The animals went in two by two,
But soon got up to tricks,
So, although they came in two by two,
They came out six by six.
Now Moses in the bulrushes,
Was all wrapped up in swathe,
Pharaoh’s daughter found him,
When she went down there to bathe.
She took him back to Pharaoh,
And said, “I found him on the shore”
And Pharaoh winked his eye and said,
“I’ve heard that one before.”
King Solomon and King David,
Lived most immoral lives,
Spent their time a-chasing,
After other people’s wives.
The Lord spoke unto both of them,
And it worked just like a charm,
‘Cos Solomon wrote the Proverbs,
And David wrote the Psalms.
Now Samson was an Israelite,
And very big and strong,
Delilah was a Philistine,
Always doing wrong.
They spent a week together,
But it didn’t get very hot,
For all he got was short back and sides,
And a little bit off the top.
DID YOU EVER SEE?
Melody – ???
Oh, I got an Aunty Sissy,
And she’s only got one titty,
But it’s very long and pointed,
And the nipple’s double-jointed.
CHORUS:
Did you ever see,
Did you ever see,
Did you ever see,
Such a funny thing before?
I’ve got a Cousin Daniel,
And he’s got a Cocker Spaniel,
If you tickle him in the middle,
He’ll raise his leg and piddle.
Oh, I’ve got Cousin Rupert,
He plays outside half for Newport,
They think so much about him,
That they always play without him.
Oh, I’ve got a Cousin Anna,
And she’s got a grand piana,
And she’ll ‘ammer, ‘ammer, ‘ammer,
Till the neighbors say “God damn ‘er.”
Oh, I’ve got a Brother Mike,
Who rides a motor bike,
He can get from here to Gower,
In a quarter of an hour.
DO YOUR BALLS HANG LOW?
Melody – Sailor’s Hornpipe
Do your balls hang low?
Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie ’em in a knot?
Can you tie ’em in a bow?
* Can you throw ’em over your shoulder,
* Like a European soldier?
Can you do the double shuffle,
When your balls hang low?
CHORUS:
Ting-a-ling, God damn, find a woman if you can.
If you can’t find a woman, find a clean old man.
If you’re ever in Gibraltar, take a flying fuck at Walter.
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?
OTHER VERSES (same as original verse, except you replace the * lines with the following):
Do they make a lusty clamor,
when you hit ’em with a hammer?
Can you bounce ’em off the wall,
like an Indian rubber ball?
Do they make a hollow sound,
when you drag ’em on the ground?
Do you feel a mellow tingle,
when you hit ’em with a shingle?
Do they squeal like dogs,
When you tromp ’em with your clogs?
Do they have a salty taste,
When you wrap ’em round your waist?
Do they chime like a gong,
when you pull upon your dong?
DO YOUR TITS HANG LOW? (I)
Melody – Sailor’s Hornpipe
Attributed to Twin Peaks & She Mussel Bitch, Austin HHH
Do your tits hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them over your shoulder?
Do you need a boulder holder?
Do your tits hang low?
Are your tits real small?
Are they flat just like a wall?
Can you hide them with your hands?
Can you see them there at all?
Would you look just like a male
if it weren’t for your pigtails?
Are your tits real small?
Are your tits just right?
Are your blouses kinda tight?
If you had a disagreement
could you use them in a fight?
Do the boys throw fits
when you flash your tits
Are your tits just right?
Do your tits go squish
when you poke them like this?
Do they feel just like
a slimy jelly fish?
Does your man’s pecker stand
when he holds them in his hand?
Do your tits go squish?
Are your tits real hard?
Could you use them as a guard?
Do your nipples poke through
your pink leotard?
When its wet and cold
do they stand out proud and bold
Are your tits real hard?
Do your tits have hair?
Do people stop and stare
when you wear a french braid
down to your underwear?
Do people think your breasts
are like your father’s chest?
Do your tits have hair?
Are your tits really real?
Did it take them long to heal?
Are they silicone
or saline filled?
Do the boys hearts race
when you shake them in their face?
Are your tits really real?
If your tits are teeny weenie
or too big for your bikini
no matter how they look
no matter how they feel
be glad that you got_em
cuz you know the boys will want’em
– Your TITS TITS TITS
DO YOUR TITS HANG LOW? (II)
Melody – Sailor’s Hornpipe
(sing basic verse, substituting two lines marked with * for each new verse, as for Do Your Balls Hang Low, above)
Do your boobs hang low,
Can you swing them to and fro,
Can you tie ’em in a knot,
Can you tie ’em in a bow?
* Do they have a milky taste
* Can you tie ’em round your waist?
Can you do the double shuffle
When your boobs hang low?
Do they dangle, do the teats,
Get wrapped around your feet?
Do they flip and flop and dangle,
Do they wind around your ankles?
Can you tie ’em like a turban,
And does it look absurd on?
Can you use them like a diaper
Or a handy bottom wiper?
Are the big and pink and round,
Can you bounce them on the ground?
Are they long and shaped like marrows,
Do you wheel them round on barrows?
Do your oversized zucchinis,
Overflow your best bikini?
Are they as big as pumpkins,
Can you walk without them bumping?
Can you roll ’em up like carpets?
Do they fit beneath your armpits?
Do your droopy mam’ry glands
Leave a trail in the sands?
Can you get a bra that fits
Without rolling up your tits?
Your bra is sixty inches,
Triple-F cup but still pinches.
Do your floppy, flapping boobs,
Look like pink deflated tubes,
Are they so pendulous
Is Lolo Ferrari* jealous?
* French woman famous for her 54-inch artifical bust
DOES YOUR BUM HANG LOW?
Melody – Sailor’s Hornpipe
(sing basic verse, substituting two lines marked with * for each new verse, as for Do Your Balls Hang Low, above)
Does your bum hang low,
Can you swing it to and fro,
Can you tie it in a knot,
Can you tie it in a bow?
* Is it big and pink and round,
* Does it sag right to the ground?
Can you do the double shuffle
When your bum hangs low?
Does it dangle, does it droop,
And obstruct you when you poop?
Does your droopy, draggy arse,
Plough deep furrows in the grass?
Does your bum reach to your feet,
Can you use it for a seat?
Do you carry round your tail-end,
On a barrow, cart, or trailer?
Does your bottom flop and sag,
Like an overstuffed bean-bag?
Is it pendulous and pink,
Does your bottom always stink?
DON’T CRY, LADY
Melody – Good Night, Ladies
Contributed by Zippy
Chorus:
Don’t cry lady. I’ll buy your goddam violets,
Dont’ cry lady. Your pencils too.
Don’t cry lady. Take off those colored glasses
Hello mother, I knew it was you.
Hooray, hooray, my father’s gonna get shot.
Hooray, hooray, that dirty drunken sot.
For he was very mean to me when I was just a tot,
Hooray, they’re gonna shoot my father, so (chorus)
Hooray, hooray, my uncle’s gonna get hung.
Hooray, hooray, that dirty drunken bum.
For he was very mean to me when I was very young,
Hooray, they’re gonna hang my uncle, so (chorus)
Hooray, hooray, my brother’s gonna get hurt.
Hooray, hooray, that dirty sex pervert.
For he was very mean to me when I was just a squirt,
Hooray, they’re gonna hurt my brother, so (chorus)
Hooray, hooray, my cousin’s gonna get destroyed.
Hooray, hooray, that no good anthropoid.
For he would always try me on the things he’d read in Freud,
Hooray, they’re gonna wreck my cousin, so (chorus)
ENGLISH COUNTRY GARDEN
Melody – Same
What do you do,
If you want to do a poo?
In an English Country Garden.
Pull down your pants,
And suffocate the ants.
In an English Country Garden.
Then get some grass,
And wipe it up your ass.
In an English Country Garden.
Then get a leaf,
And wipe your underneath.
In an English Country Garden.
Then get a spade,
And bury what you made.
In an English Country Garden.
That’s what you do,
If you want to do a poo,
In an English Country Garden.
THE FART
Melody – Mademoiselle from Armentieres
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
There was an old lady of eighty-two, parlez-vous,
There was an old lady of eighty-two, parlez-vous,
There was an old lady of eighty-two,
Did a fart but missed the loo, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
The fart went rolling down the street, parlez-vous,
The fart went rolling down the street, parlez-vous,
The fart went rolling down the street,
Knocked a copper off his feet, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
The copper got out his rusty pistol, parlez-vous,
The copper got out his rusty pistol, parlez-vous,
The copper got out his rusty pistol,
Shot the fart from here to Bristol, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
Bristol Rovers playing at home, parlez-vous,
Bristol Rovers playing at home, parlez-vous,
Bristol Rovers playing at home,
Kicked the fart from here to Rome, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
Julius Caesar drinking gin, parlez-vous,
Julius Caesar drinking gin, parlez-vous,
Julius Caesar drinking gin,
Opened his gob and the fart went in, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
The fart went rolling down his spine, parlez-vous,
The fart went rolling down his spine, parlez-vous,
The fart went rolling down his spine,
Knocked his ballocks out of line, inky, pinky, parlez-vous.
THE FARTING CONTEST
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
I’ll tell you a story that is sure to please,
Of a great farting contest at Burton-on-Tease,
Where all the best farters paraded the field,
To compete in a contest for various shields.
Some tighten their bumcheeks and fart up the scale,
To compete for a cup and a barrel of ale,
Whilst others whose arseholes are biggest and strongest,
Compete in the section for loudest and longest.
Now, this year’s event had drawn quite a big crowd,
And the betting was even on Mrs. McDowd,
For it had appeared in the evening edition,
That this lady’s arse was in perfect condition.
Now old Mrs. Jones had a perfect backside,
Half a forest of hairs with a wart on each side,
And she fancied her chance of winning with ease,
Having trained on a diet of cabbage and peas.
The vicar arrived and ascended the stand,
And thus he addressed this remarkable band:
“The contest is on as is shown on the bills,
We’ve precluded the use of injections and pills.”
Mrs. Bingle arrived amid roars of applause,
And promptly proceeded to pull off her drawers,
For though she’d no chance in the farting display,
She’d the prettiest bottom you’d see on this day.
Now, young Mrs. Porter was backed for a place,
Though she’d ovten been placed in the deepest disgrace,
By dropping a fart on a Sunday in church,
And disturbing the sermon of Reverend McGurch.
The ladies lined up at the signal to start,
And winning the toss, Mrs. Jones took first fart,
The people around stood in silence and wonder,
While her wireless transmitted gale warnings and thunder.
Now Mrs. McDowd reckoned nothing of this,
She’d had some weak tea and was all wind and piss,
She took up her place with her arse opened wide,
But unluckily shit and was disqualified.
Then young Mrs. Porter was called to the front,
And started by doing a wonderful stunt,
She took a deep breath, and clenching her hands,
She blew the whole roof off the popular stands.
That left Mrs. Bingle who shyly appeared,
And smiled at the clergy who lustily cheered,
And though it was reckoned her chances were small,
She ran out a winner, outfarting them all.
With hands on her hips she stood farting alone,
And the crowd stood amazed at the sweetness of tone,
And the clergy agreed without hindrance or pause,
And said, “First to Mrs. Bingle, now pull up your drawers.”
But with muscles well-tensed and legs full apart,
She started a final and glorious fart,
Beginning with Chopin, and ending with Wing,
She went right up the scale to God Save the King.
She went to the rostrum with maidenly gait,
And took from the vicar a set of gold plate,
Then she turned to the vicar with sweetness sublime,
And smilingly said, “Come see me sometime.”
GET FUCKED
By Bollox, Phuket HHH
When I was just a young boy I had to go to school
I didn’t like the teachers and I couldn’t stand their rules
My mother said “Speak nicely son then you won’t get whacked”
But every time the teacher spoke I would answer back
CHORUS:
Get fucked, get fucked, you can go get fucked
And if you think I give a shit then you are out of luck
I could search for big long words for ages I could hunt
But I’d rather be done with it so get fucked you silly cunt
Then along came a war and to the army I did go
One day I was called to the office to see the new C.O.
He said “The mission’s dangerous but we need the very best
And if you should come back alive we’ll pin a medal on your chest”
I said…
Then I had to go to work and by Christ it was hard
Twelve hours a day pushing broom around a lorry yard
The boss said “We’re in a mess there’s only one way I can see
You’ll have to do some overtime an hour a day for free”
I said…
Well I was sick of the missus so I asked her for divorce
She must have been sick of me because she said “Of course”
She said “I’ll keep the TV, the house, the kids, the car
And I’ll hold your money so you don’t spend it in the bar”
I said…
Now I’m here in Houston running with the hash
I’ve come a long way to be here and I paid registration cash
But if you think you can abuse me because of my silly face
Then I have two words to say and this is the time and place
You can…
They say it comes to us all so one day I must die
Then I will have to stand before the GM in the sky
He’ll say “You’re a Phuket hasher you sinned every Saturday
Before you get the big down-down is there anything you want to say”
I’ll say…
GIVE ME THAT OLD TIME RELIGION
Melody – Same
Also known as “The Pagan Song”
We will follow Zarathustra,
Zarathustra like we used ta,
I’m a Zarathustra boosta,
And he’s good enough for me!
CHORUS:
Give me that old time religion,
Give me that old time religion,
Give me that old time religion,
‘Cause it’s good enough for me!
We will worship with the Buddha,
Among gods, there is no one cute-a,
Comes in silver, brass, and pewta,
And he’s good enough for me!
We will worship with the Druids,
Dancing naked in the woods,
Drinking strange fermented fluids,
And it’s good enough for me!
We will pray with the Egyptians,
Build pyramids to put our crypts in,
Cover our subways with inscriptions,
And it’s good enough for me!
In the church of Aphrodite,
The priestess wears a see-through nightie,
She’s a mighty religious sightie,
And she’s good enough for me!
We will pray to Father Zeus,
In his temple we’ll hang loose,
Eating roast beef au jus,
And that’s good enough for me.
We will worship Sun Myung Moon,
Though we know he is a goon,
All our money he’ll have soon,
And that’s good enough for me.
We will go down to the temple,
Sit on mats woven of hemp(le),
Try to set a good exemple [sic],
And that’s good enough for me.
If it’s good enough for Dagon,
That conservative old pagan,
Who still votes for Ronald Reagan,
It’s good enough for me
We will have a mighty orgy,
In the honor of Astarte,
It will be one helluva party,
And it’s good enough for me.
We will sacrifice to Yuggoth,
Carve the signs of Azag-Thoth,
Burn a candle for Yog-Sothoth,
And the Goat with a thousand young.
We will all be saved by Mithras,
We will all be saved by Mithras,
Slay the bull and play the zithras,
On that resurrection day.
We will all bow down to Enlil,
We will all bow down to Enlil,
Pass your cup and get a refill,
With bold Gilgamesh the Brave.
It was good enough for Loki,
It was good enough for Loki,
He thinks Thor’s a little hokey,
And he’s good enough for me.
We will all go to Nirvana,
So be sure to mind your manners,
Make a left turn at Savannah,
And we’ll see the Promised Land.
It was good for old Jehova,
He had a son who was a nova,
Hey there, Mithras move on ova’,
A new resurrection day.
Where’s the hash gong? I can’t find it,
I think Black Flag is behind it,
For he’s always been cymbal minded,
And that’s good enough for me.
I hear Valkyries a-comin’,
In the air their song is comin’,
They forgot the words they’re hummin’,
Yet they’re good enough for me.
There are people into voodoo,
Africa has raised a whoodo,
Just one little doll will do you,
And it’s good enough for me.
It was good for Thor and Odin,
Grab an axe and get your woad on,
Till the Giants went and rode in,
And it’s good enough for me.
It was good enough for Odin,
Though the croakin’ was forbodin’,
Until the giants road in,
And it’s good enough for me
If your rising sign is Aries,
You’ll be taken by the faeries,
Meet the Buddha in Benares,
Where he’ll hit you with a pie.
There will be a lot of lovin’,
When we’re gathered in our coven,
Quit your pushin’ and your shovin’,
So there’ll be room enough for me.
There are followers of Conan,
And you’ll never hear ’em groaning,
Followed Crom up to his throne (in),
And it’s good enough for me.
It could be that you’re a Parsi,
It could be that you’re a Parsi,
Walk on by her; you’ll get in free,
And you’re good enough for me.
Azathoth is in his Chaos,
Azathoth is in his Chaos,
Now if only he don’t sway us,
Then that’s good enough for me.
Just like Carlos Casteneda,
Just like Carlos Casteneda,
It’ll get you sooner or later,
And it’s good enough for me.
We will venerate Bubastes,
We will venerate Bubastes,
If you like us then just ask us,
And that’s good enough for me.
We will all sing Hari Krishna,
We will all sing Hari Krishna,
It’s not mentioned in the mishna,
But that’s good enough for me.
We will read from the Cabala,
Quote the Tree of Life mandala,
It won’t get you in Valhalla,
Yet it’s good enough for me.
It’s the opera written for us,
We will all join in the chorus,
It’s the opera about Boris,
Which is Godunov for me.
There is room enough in Hades,
For lots of criminals and shadies,
And disreputable ladies,
And they’re good enough for me.
To the tune of Handel’s “Largo,”
We will hymn the gods of cargo,
‘Til they slap on an embargo,
And that’s good enough for me.
Praise to Popacatapetl,
Just a tiny cigarette’ll,
Put him in terrific fettle,
So he’s good enough for me.
We will drive up to Valhalla,
Riding Beetles, not Impalas,
Singing “Deutschland Uber Alles,”
And that’s good enough for me.
We will all bow to Hephaestus,
As a blacksmith he will test us,
‘Cause his balls are pure asbestos,
So he’s good enough for me.
We will sing of Iluvatur,
Who sent the Valar ‘cross the water,
To lead Morgoth to the slaughter,
And that’s just fine with me.
We will sing of Foul the Render,
Who’s got Drool Rockworm on a bender,
In his cave in Kiril Threndor –
They’re both too much for me.
We will sing the Jug of Issek,
And of Fafhrd his chief mystic,
Though to thieving Mouser will stick,
And that’s good enough for me.
Of Lord Shardik you must beware,
To please him you must swear;
‘Cause enraged he’s a real Bear,
And that’s good enough for me.
You can dance and wave the thyrsos,
And sing lots of rowdy verses,
Till the neighbors holler curses,
And that’s good enough for me.
Let us celebrate Jehovah,
Who created us \ab/ \ova/,
He’ll be on tonight on Nova,
‘Cause he’s good enough for me.
Montezuma used to start out,
He would rip a certain part out,
You would really eat your heart out,
And he’s good enough for me.
We will go to worship Zeus,
Though his morals are quite loose,
He gave Leda quite a goose,
And he’s good enough for me.
It was good enough for Loki,
For he is the god of Chaos,
And this verse doesn’t even rhyme, or scan.
Fuck you! It’s good enough for me.
Let us sing to old Discordia,
‘Cause it’s sure she’s never bored ya,
And if she’s good enough for ya,
Then she’s good enough for me.
We will go to worship Venus,
Though we hear she’s kind of mean (us),
She might bite you on the – elbow,
But she’s good enough for me.
Well, we went to worship Venus,
And, by god, you should have seen us,
‘Cause the clinic had to screen us,
But she’s good enough for me.
We will go and worship Isis,
She will help us in a crisis,
And she’ll never raise her prices,
So she’s good enough for me.
We will sing a song of Mithras,
Let us sing a song of Mithras,
But there is no rhyme for Mithras!
Still he’s good enough for me.
We will go to worship Kali,
She will help us in our folly,
She’d be quite an armful, golly!
And she’s good enough for me.
We will all bow down to Allah,
For he gave his loyal follow-
Ers the mighy petro-dollah,
And that’s good enough for me.
Let us sing to Lord Cthuhlu,
Don’t let Lovecraft try to fool you,
Or the Elder Gods WILL rule you,
And that’s good enough for me.
Let us watch Ka.ka.pa.ull,
Frolic in her swimming pool,
Subjecting chaos to her rule,
And that’s all right with me.
Let’s all listen up to Jesus,
He says rich folks like old Croesus,
Will be damned until Hell freezes,
And that don’t sound good to me.
Let us do our thing for Eris,
Goddess of the discord there is,
Apple’s golden, it’s not ferrous,
and that’s good enough for me.
Of the Old Ones, none is vaster,
Even Cthulhu’s not his master,
I refer to the unspeakable – – – *
And that’s good enough for me.
*well, do YOU want to say it?
Let us sing for Brooharia,
Though the blood’s a lot less cleaner,
It’s not Christian Santaria,
So it’s good enough for me
Timmy Leary we will sing to,
And the things that he was into,
(Well, at least it wasn’t Shinto),
And that’s good enough for me.
We shall sacrifice to Otis,
and Lotus, Spode, and Rotus,
Though the normals may not notice,
It will be good enough for me.
Then we’ll worship with the Fruitcakes,
(better than those Buddhist flakes),
Bowing for the weekly keepsake,
And it will be good enough for me.
GOOD SHIP VENUS
Melody – North Atlantic Squadron
‘Twas on the good ship Venus,
By Christ you should have seen us,
The figurehead was a whore in bed,
And the mast was the Captain’s penis.
CHORUS:
Frigging on the rigging,
Wanking on the planking,
Masturbating on the grating,
There’s fuck all else to do.
The Captain’s wife was Mabel,
Whenever she was able,
She gave the crew their daily screw,
Upon the galley table,
The cabin boy’s name was Kipper,
A cunning little nipper,
He lined his ass with broken glass,
And circumcised the skipper.
The ladies of the nation
Arose in indignation,
They stuffed his bum with chewing gum,
A smart retaliation.
The ship’s dog’s name was Rover,
We fairly bowled him over,
(The whole crew did him over,)
We ground and ground that faithful hound,
From Singapore to Dover.
The First Mate’s name was Hopper,
By Christ, he had a whopper,
Twice round his neck, once round the deck,
And up his ass for a stopper.
The Captain’s randy daughter,
She fell into the water,
Delighted squeals revealed that eels,
Had found her sexual quarter.
‘Twas on the China Station,
To roars of approbation,
We sunk a Junk with a load of spunk,
By mutual masturbation.
The Second Mate’s name was Carter,
By God, he was a farter,
When the wind wouldn’t blow and the ship wouldn’t go,
We’d get Carter the farter to start her.
The cook whose name was Freeman,
He was a dirty demon,
He served the crew with menstrual stew,
And foreskins fried in semen.
The Captain of that lugger,
By Christ, he was a bugger,
He wasn’t fit to shovel shit,
From one ship to another.
The Third Mate’s name was Wiggun,
By God, he had a big ‘un,
We bashed that cock with lump of rock
For friggin in the riggin.
The next Mate’s name was Andy,
By God, that man was randy,
We boiled his bum in red-hot rum,
For coming in the brandy.
The Fourth Mate’s name was Morgan,
A homosexual Gorgon,
A dozen crow in rows could pose,
Upon his sexual organ,
On the trip to Buenos Aires,
We rogered all the fairies,
We got the syph at Tenneriffe,
And a dose of clap in the Canaries.
Another cook was O’Mally,
He didn’t dilly dally,
He shot his bolt with a hell of a jolt,
And whitewashed half the galley.
The Captain was elated,
The Crew investigated,
The found some sand in his prostrate gland,
He had to be castrated.
Another Mate’s name was Paul,
He only had one ball,
But with that cracker he’d roll terbaccer,
Around the cabin wall.
The Boatswain’s name was Lester,
He was a hymen tester,
Through hymens thick he’d shove his prick
And leave it there to fester.
The engineer was McTavish,
And young girls he did ravish,
His missing tool’s at Istanbul,
He was a trifle lavish.
A homo was the Purser,
He couldn’t have been warser,
With all the crew he had a screw,
Until they yelled, “Oh, no sir.”
‘Twas in the Adriatic,
Where the water’s almost static,
The rise and fall of arse and ball,
Was almost automatic.
The ship’s cat’s name was Hippy,
His hole was black and shitty,
But shit or not it had a twat,
The Captain showed no pity.
So now we end this serial,
Through sheer lack of material,
We wish you luck and freedom from
Diseases venereal.
HALLELUJAH, I’M A BUM
Melody – Hallelujah, I’m a Bum
Oh, why don’t you work like other men do?
How the hell can I work when there’s no work to do?
CHORUS:
Hallelujah, I’m a bum,
Hallelujah, bum again.
Hallelujah, give us a handout
To revive us again.
Springtime is here and I’m just out of jail,
The whole winter in without any tail.
I went to a house and I knocked on the door,
My cock sticking straight out, my balls on the floor.
I asked for a piece of bread and some food,
The lady said, “Bum, you will eat when I’m screwed.”
When I left that lady, my cock it was sore,
My belly was full, her ass it was tore.
I went to another and I asked her for bread,
She emptied the peepot all over my head.
Be happy and glad for the springtime has come,
We’ll throw down our shovels and go on the bum.
HAPPY WANK SONG
Melody – Happy Talk (from South Pacific)
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
Happy, happy, happy, happy wank,
Nice girls wear their pubes in a fringe,
If you don’t have a crow,
You got to have a crow,
How you gonna make wet dreams come true?
HAS ANYBODY SEEN J. C.?
Melody – Has Anybody Seen My Gal?
Five foot nine; He’s divine,
Says He comes from Palestine,
Has anybody seen J. C.?
Well, if you run into a five foot Jew,
Covered with thorns,
Holes in His hands, spear in His side,
Man, that Cat’s been crucified!
Five foot nine; He’s divine;
Changes water into wine,
Hash anybody seen J. C.?
Well, if you run into a five foot Jew,
Covered with thorns,
Holes in His hands, spear in His side,
Man, that Cat’s been crucified!
Well, He is camp, He is cool,
He will walk across your swimming pool,
Has anybody seen J. C.?
HI HO! HI HO! IT’S OFF TO THE BURLESQUE SHOW
Melody – Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s Off to Work We Go
Hi ho! Hi ho! It’s off to the burlesque show,
We’ll sit up front,
To see their cunts,
Hi ho! Hi ho! Hi Ho Ho Ho Ho . . .
OTHER VERSES:
At half past eight, we’ll masturbate
They’re small on wits, but big on tits
We’ll drop our drawers, and fuck some whores
I paid my buck, now where’s my fuck
From ten till eight, we’ll fornicate
HUMORESQUE
Melody – Humoresque
This is not all one song, but rather a collection of verses that go to the melody of Dvorak’s Humoresque, collected from several sources, including Zippy, Mu-Sick, and Ed Cray
I love to go out after dark
And goose the statues in the park,
A lovely pastime at the close of day!
Unperturbed they stand so still,
While WHOOPS! it’s me that gets the thrill.
It really is a lovely way to play.
I’ve noticed lately
They stand so stately,
Out there in the dark when dew is on the ground.
I sometimes tease them
And do displease them,
If I fail to show up as the sun goes down.
The Thinker is the only one
With whom I can have no fun.
He sits upon a boulder, rough and coarse.
Napoleon sits upon his steed,
I cannot goose him, no indeed,
And so instead I goose his horse.
______
Passengers will please refrain
From flushing toilets while the train
Is standing in the station, I love you.
We encourage constipation
While the train is in the station,
Moonlight always makes me think of you.
If you simply have to go
When other people are too slow,
There is only one thing you can do.
You’ll just have to take a chance,
Be brave and do it in your pants,
But I’ll forgive you, darling, I love you.
______
Passengers will please refrain
From flushing toilets while the train
Is standing in the station, I love you.
If you have to pass some water,
Kindly call the Pullman Porter.
He’ll place a vessel in the vestibule.
If this method is in vain,
You may break a window pane.
This novel method’s used by very few.
Tramps and hobos underneath
May catch it in the nose and teeth.
And they may bite off more than they can chew.
______
Mabel, Mabel, strong and able,
Get your big ass off the table,
Don’t you know the quarter is for beer?
You can always earn your pay,
But make your tips another way,
And I’ll forgive you, darling, I love you!
______
Ever since you met our Nelly,
She’s had trouble with her belly,
Wish you’d never seen our little town!
Ever since I met your Venus,
I’ve had trouble with my penis,
Wish I’d never seen your little town.
______
Was it you who did the pushin’,
Put the stains upon the cushion,
Footprints on the dashboard upside down?
Was it your sly woodpecker
That got into my girl Rebecca?
If it was, you better leave this town.
It was I who did the pushin’,
Put the stains upon the cushion,
Footprints on the dashboard upside down.
But since I got into your daughter,
I’ve had trouble passing water,
Now I guess we’re even all around.
I WANT TO PLAY PIANO
Melody – ???
From the songbook of the 43rd Tactical Fighter Squadron, Elmendorf A.F.B., Alaska
I want to play piano in a whorehouse,
That’s my one desire.
Take your ranches, and your banks, and your gold mine out in Butte,
I just want to play piano in a house of ill-repute.
You may laugh at this my humble avocation,
But carnal copulation’s here to stay.
I don’t want worlds of riches, just want to play for those old bitches,
I want to play a piano in a whorehouse.
I’LL TAKE THE LEFT LEG
Melody – Loch Lomond
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
CHORUS:
I’ll take the left leg and you take the right leg,
It’s my turn to give her the caber.
‘Cause me and my true love have never been the same,
Since I shared her with the next door neighbor.
When the Lord and his band were shaping up this land,
They found that they have left over,
A pile of useless crap on the left side of the map,
That they’d hacked out of the White Cliffs of Dover.
Angel Gabriel scratched his head and asked the Lord instead,
“What can we name this wretched land so mean, Sire?”
“Ooch, Gabe, call it what ye will, maybe Largs or Motherwell;
No, on second thought we’ll call it Aberdeenshire.”
Now there was me and Auntie Annie, Cousin Jock and dear old Granny,
And we’d all had a roll in the heather,
‘Cause we come from Braemar, and we’ll not forget that our,
Family motto is, “We’re all queers together.”
Now the old goat died around Eastertide,
So Jock rammed the bloody coal scuttle up her,
He threw her on to boil, then he topped her off with soil,
And served her up as haggis supper.
When a visiting rugby team took a whore from Aberdeen,
To agree on a price took an eternity,
But she took them without a fuss and had triplets on the bus,
And sued them for collective paternity.
Now wee Ronnie teaches pipes to girls of all types,
His methods are revelation,
Just cut your bloody banter, get your mouth ’round my chanter,
And I’ll complete your education.
Now in Burn’s magic prose, a Scottish girl is like a rose,
My lass was more like Ben Nevis when I found her.
Her southern slopes were gray, half the nation knew the way,
And the Hash had run up and down her.
INCONTINENCE IS THE SHITS
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
What the hell, if Zippy can spawn bastard children from Bestiality’s Best, so can I . . .F.B.
CHORUS:
Incontinence is the shits, mates,
Incontinence is the shits – OOPS, TOO LATE!
Incontinence is the shits, mates,
Incontinence is the shits.
Soil your pants at the dance, boys,
Soil your pants at the dance – INCONTINENCE!
Soil your pants at the dance, boys,
Soil your pants at the dance, ’cause . . .
OTHER VERSES:
Move your bowel on her towel, boys
Drop a load on the road, boys
Take a whiz in your sleep, girls
Spend a penny in your teddie, girls
Go wee wee in the laundry, girls
Wet your panties at Auntie’s, girls
Piddle right down your middle, boys
Crap right in your wrap, girls
Relieve yourself in a crowd, mates
Make poo poo in your shoe, boys
Smell like piss at the Ritz, girls
Smell like stool at your school, boys
Wear Depends on your ends, mates
Put a catheter up your peter, boys
Wear rubber undies on Sundays, girls
Be all a-drip on a ship, mates
Make a piddle while you diddle, boys
Public diarrhea in the cafeteria, boys
Make a stink at the skating rink, girls
IRIAN JAYA
Melody – Mull of Kintyre
By M. Hanson, City HHH, Singapore
Far have I traveled and much have I seen,
Had blow jobs from Bancis and fucked things obscene,
Been crippled by herpes and things far more dire,
But if you want a blow job go to Irian Jaya.
CHORUS:
Irian Jaya,
To be gobbled by natives is what I desire,
They practice on blowpipes in Irian Jaya.
Been rogered in Rio and poked in Peru,
Been massaged in Manila and then had a screw,
Been fucked in Llanelli by a Welsh male boys’ choir,
But for the height of perversion go to Irian Jaya.
Met a girl in the jungle with a bone through her nose,
Cunt like a mantrap and strong I suppose,
Bush like a yardbroom that’s made out of wire,
So be careful of pussy in Irian Jaya.
Oh the skirt she was wearing was made out of grass,
It only just covered her sweet little ass,
I felt an erection getting higher and higher,
As I followed that lady from Irian Jaya.
She put down her basket, took hold of my tool,
Pulled back the foreskin and started to drool,
Curled her lips round it, and sir I’m no liar,
They still have headhunters in Irian Jaya.
IT’S THE SAME THE WHOLE WORLD OVER
Melody – Oh, My Darlin’ Clementine
She was just a poor man’s daughter,
Victim of the rich man’s whim,
For he fucked her and he left her,
With a sore and bleeding quim.
CHORUS:
It’s the same the whole world over,
It’s the poor what get the blame,
It’s the rich what get the pleasure,
Ain’t it all a fucking shame.
Oh, she went up to the city,
For to hide her bleeding shame,
But a Labour leader up and fucked her,
Put her on the street again.
See him in the House of Commons,
Passing laws to combat crime,
While the victim of his evil,
Walks the streets at night in shame.
See him with his hounds and horses,
See him strutting at his club,
While the victim of his whoring,
Drinks her gin inside a pub.
See him riding in his carriage,
Past the gutter where she stands,
He has made a stylish marriage,
While she wrings her ringless hands.
See him at the fine theater,
In the front row with the best,
While the girl that he has ruined,
Entertains a sordid guest.
See her on the bridge at midnight,
Throwing snowballs at the moon,
She said, “Sir, I’ve never had it,”
But she spoke too fucking soon.
Standing on the bridge at midnight,
Picking blackheads from her crotch,
She said, “Sir, I’ve never had it,”
He said, “No, not fucking much.”
See her stand in Picadilly,
Offering her aching quim,
She is now completely ruined,
It was all because of him.
See him seated in his carriage,
Riding homeward from the hunt,
He got riches from his marriage,
She got sores upon her cunt.
Standing on the bridge at midnight,
Throwing cunt-rags at the moon,
First a scream, a splash, oh goodness!
Has she done a fucking swoon?
When they dragged her from the river,
Water from her clothes they wrung,
And they thought that she had drowned,
Till her corpse got up and sung (the chorus).
I WISH I WAS IN ENGLAND
Melody – Dixie
I wish I was in England,
I do, I do,
I’d go down to Trafalgar Square,
To see Lord Nelson’s statue,
Get fucked! Get fucked! You one-armed pommie bastard!
I wish I was in Sydney,
I do, I do,
The finest town in all the world,
Except for one small problem,
The place! Is full! Of fucking Aussie bastards!
I wish I was in Paris,
I do, I do,
I’d go down to the Moulin Rouge,
To see the Can-Can dancers,
Get off! Get off! Get off your Froggie panties!
I wish I was in Vegas,
I do, I do,
I’d go down the MGM,
To see Siegfried and Roy,
Poof off! Poof off! Poof off, you bloody homos!
I wish I was in Tucson,
I do, I do,
I’d go down to Pantano Wash,
To hash in sand and cactus,
Fuck off! Fuck off! Fuck off, you jHavelinas!
JESUS CAN’T GO HASHING
Melody – Battle Hymn of the Republic
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause he’s nailed upon the cross,
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause he’s nailed upon the cross,
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause he’s nailed upon the cross,
Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves!
CHORUS:
Free beer for all the hashers,
Free beer for all the hashers,
Free beer for all the hashers,
Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves!
ADDITIONAL VERSES:
Jesus don’t need flour ‘cause he lays the trail in blood,
Don’t give your beer to Jesus ‘cause he’ll turn it into wine,
When Jesus is the hash chef, all we get is fish,
We like to hash with Jesus ’cause he always cleans our feet,
Jesus won’t come hashing because Judas pissed him off,
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause his feet are tied together
When Judas goes hashing, he pays with silver coins,
Jesus can’t lay trail because the flour falls through his hands
The pack can’t catch Jesus ‘cause he skips across the pond (runs across the lake)
The harriettes love Jesus ‘cause he’s hung like this
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause there’s a rock in front of his cave (he’s stuck behind a rock)
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause he’s only got twelve friends
Jesus can’t hash ’cause his dad’ll fix the trail,
Jesus can’t go hashing ‘cause he’s dead,
(on your knees) Jesus, we’re only kidding.
JONESTOWN
Melody – Downtown
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
When you are broke and your religion’s a joke,you can always go
to – Jonestown!
When life’s incomplete there’s only one man to meet, so won’t you come and see – Jim Jones!
Watch him as he stirs the vat of Koolaid that’s so lethal,
Listen to the anguished crys of all his dying people – no one survives!
The Rev’s a most gracious host, so let’s lift up our glass to the ultimate toast, we’re at – Jonestown!
Drink up with Reverend Jim – Jonestown! – the chances are mighty slim – Jonestown! – the people are dropping like flies.
Jonestown – Jonestown – Jonestown – Jonestown. . .
There was Congressman Ryan on his mission of spying but he would not drink with – Jim Jones!
For such a disgrace they had to blow off his face, now tell me who’s to blame – Jim Jones!
But it forced the Rev to put his final plan in action,
He drank the brew and when it’s through he saw with satisfaction – everyone died!
The deaths were both painful and slow, but to live or die, it’s a great way to go, we’re at – Jonestown!
Drink up with Reverend Jim – Jonestown! – the chances are mighty slim – Jonestown! – the people are dropping like flies.
Jonestown – Jonestown – Jonestown – Jonestown . . .
JUNIOR BIRDMEN
Melody – Itself
Up in the air, junior birdmen,
Into the air, upside down,
Up in the air, junior birdmen,
With your assholes to the ground.
And when you hear the grand announcement,
That your wings are made of tin,
Then you will know junior birdmen,
Have sent their boxtops in.
For it takes five boxtops,
Four bottle-bottoms,
Three wrappers,
Two labels,
And one thin dime . . .
Ratta-ta-taaa . . .
LEAVER’S SONG
Melody – Annie’s Song
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
CHORUS:
You’re leaving Jakarta, you silly old farter,
Your best days are over, you’re ready to go.
Your wrinkles are showing, your beer belly is growing,
Your semen’s stopped flowing, you’re all clapped out now.
You abandoned your wife, in favor of night life,
You screwed till the morning, then came back for more.
Even your maid was willing, to sample your drilling,
But now your bit’s broken, they’ve shown you the door.
We marvel to witness, your standard of fitness,
You suffered no ailments, not even a cough.
But from self-abuse, and living so loose,
Your extremity’s withered, and your balls have dropped off.
You came full of purpose, but now you are surplus,
You were full of ideas, you were at the forefront.
Now your skills are outdated, your job’s automated,
You’re now on the scrap heap, you stupid old cunt.
THE LEHIGH VALLEY
Melody – Red River Valley
According to Ed Cray in “The Erotic Muse”, the original of this hobo song was a parlor song used in an 1882 play. The first known printed version dates to 1912 and was sung to the tune of Red River Valley
Don’t look at me that way, stranger,
I didn’t shit in your seat.
I just come down from the mountains
With my balls all covered with sleet.
I’ve been up in the Lehigh Valley,
Me and my old pal, Lou,
A-pimpin’ for a whorehouse
And a God damned good one too.
It was there that I first fucked Nell;
She was the village belle.
I was only a lowdown panderer
But I loved that girl like hell.
But along came a city slicker,
All handsome, gay and rich,
And he stole away my Nellie,
That stinking son-of-a-bitch.
I’m just restin’ my ass a moment,
And then I’m on my way.
I’ll hunt the runt that swiped my cunt
If it takes till Judgement Day.
LIFE PRESENTS A DISMAL PICTURE (Two Versions)
Version # 1 Melody – Hark, the Herald Angels Sing
Version # 2 Melody – Oh, My Darlin’ Clementine
The first version of this fine old standard is included in many hash songbooks. The second version, titled “Hymn,” comes from Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
Life presents a dismal picture,
Dark and dreary as the tomb,
Father’s got urethral stricture,
Mother’s got a prolapsed womb.
Uncle James has been deported
For a homosexual crime,
Nell, our maid, has just aborted
For the forty-second time.
Ours is not a happy household –
No one laughs or ever smiles,
Mine’s a dismal occupation,
Crushing ice for Grandpa’s piles.
Jane the under-housemaid vomits
Every morning just at eight,
To the horror of the butler,
Who’s the author of her fate.
Auntie Kate has diarrhea,
Shits ten times more than she ought;
Stands all day beside the rear,
Lest she should be taken short.
Grandpa, lurking in the woodshed,
Found a fetus in a case;
Father Pryke says it’s murder –
Of sister Annie there’s no trace.
Uncle Charlie has a chancre,
Caught from Uncle Henry’s wife;
May’s in bed with menstruation,
Auntie’s at the change of life.
Mabel’s husband’s now in prison,
For a childish prank of mine;
Pinching things that wasn’t his’n –
Women’s scanties off a line.
Dad’s a man who likes the bestial,
Incest is my mother’s fun,
So the whole four sleep together –
Father, mother, horse, and son.
Anal-oral trends disgust me,
Though pronounced in Tiny Tim,
For I much prefer fellatio –
He sucks me and I suck him.
Little Jim keeps masturbating,
Though we tell him it is sin;
Uncle Dave’s the Kingsgrove Slasher,
Uncle Henry dobbed him in.
Still, we must not be down-hearted,
We must not be put about,
Cousin Susie has just farted –
Turned her arsehole inside out!
________
Guide me oh my great Jehovah,
Pilgrim in this barren land,
We are meek, but thou art mighty,
Guide us with thy powerful hand.
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven,
Feed us till we want no more,
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven,
Feed us till we want no more.
Always eat when you are hungry,
Always drink when you are dry,
Always sleep when you are tired,
Don’t stop breathing or you’ll die.
Bread’s from commissary, milk Magnolia,
Cold beer from San Miguel,
Bread’s from commissary, milk Magnolia,
Cold beer from San Miguel.
Life presents a dismal picture,
From the cradle to the tomb,
Father’s got an anal stricture,
Mother’s got a fallen womb.
Fallen womb, fallen womb,
Mother’s got a fallen womb,
Fallen womb, fallen womb,
Mother’s got a fallen womb.
Sister Sue has been aborted,
For the forty-second time,
Brother Bill has been reported,
For a homosexual crime.
For a homo, for a homo,
For a homosexual crime,
For a homo, for a homo,
For a homosexual crime.
Grandpa hardly ever laughs now,
Fact, he never even smiles,
For his only occupation’s,
Crushing ice for Grandpa’s piles.
Crushing ice, crushing ice,
Crushing ice for Grandpa’s piles,
Crushing ice, crushing ice,
Crushing ice for Grandpa’s piles.
In a small brown paper parcel,
Wrapped in a mysterious way,
Is an imitation rectum,
Grandpa uses twice each day.
Uses twice, uses twice,
Uses twice each day,
Uses twice, uses twice,
Uses twice each day.
Never ever be down-hearted,
Never be fucked all about,
Brother Tom has only farted,
Turned his asshole inside out.
Turned his asshole, turned his asshole,
Turned his asshole inside out,
Turned his asshole, turned his asshole,
Turned his asshole inside out.
Even now the baby’s started,
Having epileptic fits,
Every time it coughs it spews,
Every time it spews it shits.
Every time, every time.
Every time it spews it shits,
Every time, every time.
Every time it spews it shits.
LITTLE BIT OFF THE TOP
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
When I was eight days old, me boys,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
When I was eight days old, me boys,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
The rabbi came with a big sharp knife,
And I surely thought he’d take my life,
But all he took was a,
Little bit off the top.
Oh, that is what they call a bris,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Oh, that is what they call a bris,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
And if the rabbi should happen to miss,
It surely makes for an interesting piss,
But all he took was a,
Little bit off the top.
The rabbi, he is called a moyl,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
The rabbi, he is called a moyl,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
And over me he sure did toil,
I thought that I’d end up a goil,
But all he took was a,
Little bit off the top.
Oh, circumcision is all right,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
Oh, circumcision is all right,
Hurrah, Hurrah,
But every morning and every night,
You aim to the left and pee to the right,
But all he took was a,
Little bit off the top.
THE LITTLE RED TRAIN
Melody – When Johnny Comes Marching Home
A little red train came down the track,
She blew, she blew,
A little red train came down the track,
She blew, she blew,
A little red train came down the track,
And I don’t give a damn if she never comes back,
Away she blew, oh Jesus, how she blew.
The engineer was at the throttle . . .
A-jacking off in a whiskey bottle . . .
The fireman, he was shoveling coal . . .
Right up the engineer’s asshole . . .
The switchman, he was at the switch . . .
A-swishing away like a son of a bitch . . .
A blonde was in the dining car . . .
A-puffing away on a black cigar . . .
A porter was waiting in the car . . .
To take the place of the black cigar . . .
The flagman he stood out in the grass . . .
The staff of the flag run up his ass . . .
MOBILE
Melody – She’ll be Comin’ Round the Mountain
(Take turns leading verses)
Oh the eagles they fly high in Mobile, in Mobile,
Oh the eagles they fly high in Mobile,
Oh the eagles they fly high,
And they shit right in your eye,
Thank the Lord that cows don’t fly,
In Mobile.
CHORUS:
In Mobile, in Mobile,
In Mo, in Mo, in Mobile,
A-a-sshole, a-a-sshole, a-a-a-sshole.
There’s a girl by the name of Dinah in Mobile, in Mobile,
There’s a girl by the name of Dinah in Mobile,
There’s a girl by the name of Dinah,
Who thinks there’s nothing finer,
Than a prick up her vagina,
In Mobile.
Oh the vicar is a bugger in Mobile, etc
And the curate is another,
And they bugger one another,
In Mobile.
There’s a shortage of bog paper in Mobile, etc
So they wait until it vapors,
Then they light it with a taper,
In Mobile.
If you’re ever thrown in jail in Mobile, etc
Well there’s no need for bail,
‘Cause the sheriff’s wife’s for sale,
In Mobile.
Oh the Hashers get no tail in Mobile, etc
So for want of recreation, they indulge in masturbation,
It’s a hell of a situation,
In Mobile.
Oh there’s a brand-new lighthouse in Mobile, etc
Which the birds use for a shit-house,
Now the lighthouse is a white house,
In Mobile.
There’s a shortage of good bogs in Mobile, etc
So they wait until it clogs,
Then they saw it up in logs,
In Mobile.
There’s a man by the name of Hunt in Mobile, etc
Who thought he had a cunt,
But his balls were back to front,
In Mobile.
There’s a man by the name of West in Mobile, etc
Who thought he had a breast,
But his balls were on his chest,
In Mobile.
Oh the girls they wear tin undies in Mobile, etc
And they take them off on Sundays,
You should see the boys on Mondays,
In Mobile.
There’s a shortage of good whores in Mobile, etc
But there’s keyholes in the doors,
And there’s knotholes in the floors,
In Mobile.
Oh the parson is perverted in Mobile, etc
And his morals are inverted,
There’s a thousand he’s converted,
In Mobile.
Frenchies are in short supply in Mobile, etc
And that’s the reason why,
You’ll see them hanging out to dry,
In Mobile.
The virgins they are rare in Mobile, etc
When they get their pubic hair,
They’re deflowered by the mayor,
In Mobile.
Oh the girls they wear tin pants in Mobile, etc
And they take them off to dance,
All the fellows get a chance,
In Mobile.
There’s a lad named Dirty Danny in Mobile, etc
And he likes a bit of fanny,
And he gets if off of granny,
In Mobile.
There’s a bastard named Mercator in Mobile, etc
Who’s the greatest fornicator,
Masturbator, cunt-inflater,
In Mobile.
There’s a girl with no ambition in Mobile, etc
And when she isn’t wishin’, she gets it in the kitchen,
From the local obstetrician,
In Mobile.
Oh men of drinking classes in Mobile, etc
When you’ve finished with your glasses,
You can shove them up your asses,
In Mobile.
Oh the chemists are the key men in Mobile, etc
Selling dehydrated semen,
To emasculated he-men,
In Mobile.
Oh the privates wash the dishes in Mobile, etc
And they dry them on their britches,
Oh the dirty sons of bitches,
In Mobile.
Oh the sergeant is a bugger in Mobile, etc
And the corporal is another,
And they bugger one another,
In Mobile.
Oh they drink their whisky neat in Mobile, etc
Till it drops them off their feet,
And they cannot get a beat,
In Mobile.
Oh I chased the colonel’s daughter in Mobile, etc
And I shagged her when I caught her,
Now the daughter’s got a daughter,
In Mobile.
Oh, the cows they are all dead in Mobile, etc
So they milk the bulls instead,
‘Cause the bastards must be fed,
In Mobile.
MOONSHADOW (OKINAWA HHH PERENNIAL)
Melody – Moonshadow
(Two to three hashers required, one bareassed)
I’m being followed by a moonshadow,
Moonshadow, moonshadow, etc . . .
MY GOD HOW THE MONEY ROLLS IN
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/money-rolls-in/
(Take turns leading verses)
My father makes book on the corner,
My mother makes illicit gin,
My sister sells kisses to sailors,
My God how the money rolls in.
CHORUS:
Rolls in, rolls in,
My God how the money rolls in, rolls in,
Rolls in, rolls in,
My God how the money rolls in.
My mother’s a bawdy house keeper,
Each night when the evening grows dim,
She hangs out a little red lantern,
My God how the money rolls in.
My cousin’s a Harley Street surgeon,
With instruments long, sharp, and thin,
He only does one operation,
My God how the money rolls in.
Uncle Joe is a registered plumber,
His business in holes and in tin,
He’ll plug up your hole for a tenner,
My God how the money rolls in.
My brother’s a slum missionary,
He saves fallen women from sin,
He’ll save you a blonde for a dollar,
My God how the money rolls in.
My Grandad sells cheap prophylactics,
He punctures the teats with a pin,
For Grandma gets rich off abortions,
My God how the money rolls in.
My sister’s a barmaid in Sydney,
For a shilling she’ll strip to the skin,
She’s stripping from morning till midnight,
My God how the money rolls in.
My aunt keeps a girl’s seminary,
Teaching young girls to begin,
She doesn’t say where they will finish,
My God how the money rolls in.
I’ve shares in the very best companies,
In tramways, tobacco, and tin,
And brothels in Rio de Janeiro,
My God how the money rolls in.
My brother Jim whittles out candles,
From wax that is exceptionally soft,
He says it will come in real handy,
If ever his business falls off.
My father pimps ma on the corner,
My brother makes juniper gin,
My sister sells love for a living,
My God how the money rolls in.
My mother’s a bawdy-house keeper,
Each night she rents out sister’s quim,
She hangs a red light in our doorway,
My God how the money rolls in.
My brother hawks ass in the alley,
I do wish he wouldn’t hawk mine,
It leaves me with bad constipation,
My God, how the money rolls in.
MY SOMBRERO
Melody – Mexican Hat Dance (Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay)
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward
My sister Belinda, she pissed out the winda,
All over my favorite sombrero,
I said, “You fat twat, you pissed on my hat,”
She said, “I don’t fucking well care O.”
Aye, aye, aye, aye, me and my soggy sombrero,
I said, “You fat twat you just pissed on my hat,”
She said, “I don’t fucking well care O.”
My sister Margarita, she come all excreta,
And shit in my bessy sombrero,
I said, “You fat twat, you shit in my hat,”
She said, “I don’t give a fuck-er-O.”
Aye, aye, aye, aye, me and my shitty sombrero,
I said, “You fat twat, you just shat in my hat,”
She said, “I don’t give a fuck-er-O.”
My girlfriend Maria, she’s got gonorrhea,
She gave it to me, amigo,
I said, “You fat twat, you gave me the clap,”
She said, “I don’t fucking well care O.”
Aye, aye, aye, aye, me and my blobby dickero,
I said, “You fat twat, you just gave me the clap,”
She said, “I don’t fucking well care O.”
THE NORTH ATLANTIC SQUADRON
Melody – The North Atlantic Squadron
CHORUS:
Away, away, with fyfe and drum,
Here we come, full of rum,
Looking for women to pat on the bum
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The firefighters have lots of fire,
They never, never seem to tire
Of pulling their hose, and pulling their wire
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The service police are a bunch of sluts,
They should be hung up by their nuts,
A bunch of hicks from out of the sticks
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
Into the mess we go to sup,
A dirty plate, a dirty cup,
The cooks should fucking well smarten up
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The wireless boys they fly so high,
I wish to hell that they would die,
Their da da dits give us the shits
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
When we were ten miles out to sea
The Pilot started buggery
His only joy was the wireless boy
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The One Six One crew Number Four,
Went out one night to find a whore;
Their only hope was a nanny goat
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
When in Vera Cruz we touched,
We found that Kingston whores were such,
That when open wide you could put inside
The North Atlantic Squadron.
In Newfoundland when it got hot,
We used to fornicate a lot,
Only the fools would be pulling their tools
In the North AtLantic Squadron.
The native girls are all misfits,
They have no teeth, they have no tits,
No wonder they give us the shits
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The sergeants they are on the bit,
Giving tbe ACs lots of shit.
After the war their throats we’ll slit
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
In Gaspe it rained all the time,
The sun was never known to shine,
The fog was so thick you could set it in bricks
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The officers they know fuck all,
As up the CO’s arse they crawl.
What do they get but sweet fuck all
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The civvies in the Ferry Command
Are always jerking off by hand.
They’re the fucking scourge of this fair land
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The Ferry Command from Montreal,
What do they bring but sweet fuck all.
Whatever the date, they’re always late
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The American boys we do admire,
They fly through shit and snow and fire,
They never never seem to tire
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
By Ottawa we’re really stumped,
You know they are a bunch of cunts;
Their nuts should be nailed to the nearest stump
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
If I had a girl and she were mine
Upon her arse I’d paint a sign-
“Try this for size, it’s really fine”
In the North Atlantic Squadron
The works and bricks are a bunch of pricks,
They feed the fire with wood and sticks;
They leave us all in a hell of a fix
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The Northern Electric put up poles;
They should be shoved up their arseholes.
They stay inside when it is cold
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The medical corps are a bunch of whores,
They should be hung up by their drawers.
They give you pills and you shit for hours
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The fucking discips give us the pips,
All of them are full of shit.
From arsehole to breakfast they should be slit
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The dear old WAAFs, I hope they’ll come,
And then we’ll pat them on the bum;
And in the bushes our work will be done
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
There was a girl from Montreal,
She spread her legs from wall to wall.
With every jump I made her call
For the North Atlantic Squadron.
The RAF are on the bit,
Giving Hitler lots of shit,
And after the war they’ll talk about it
And the North Atlantic Squadron.
In Labrador we used to sit,
In the mess and shoot the shit,
With fuckall to do but swallow it
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The boys from stores went out to piss,
Their streams and spray they went amiss-
They said that they could drown with this
The North Atlantic Squadron.
Those MT men are reckless birds,
They roar around like crazy turds.
They smash up trucks with very few words
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The girls of Gaspe town are bags,
They always seem to wear their rags;
And if they don’t, their pussy sags
From the North Atlantic Squadron.
A lazy crowd are the bastard clerks,
They piss around like a bunch of jerks.
They fuck around but they never work
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
The aircrew boys they all had chills,
They took some green artillery pills;
They shit from Yarmouth to Gander Hills
In the North Atlantic Squadron.
THE OLD BAZAAR IN CAIRO
Melody – Unknown
Rice pud, very good, chuck it all about,
We made it in a teapot and couldn’t get it out,
So we all took turns at sucking through the spout,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The fishmonger’s daughter will lay it on the slab,
You’d better get your skates on, her sole is up for grabs,
She will let you fillet, but you’d better watch the crabs,
At the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The herb-trader’s daughter is hot if you like spice,
You won’t find her chilli, be sage and take your thyme,
She always yells out ‘cumin’, she’ll pepper up your life,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The camel-trader’s daughter will let you have a hump,
Mount her, ride her, drive her any way she comes,
She’ll go much faster if you smack her on the rump,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The mule-driver’s daughter has a lovely ass,
If you want her tail you can roll her in the grass,
Beat her with your rod and then drive up her pass,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The baccy-seller’s daughter will let you have some shag,
Hand-rolled or ready-rubbed, you won’t find her a drag,
If your pipe needs reaming, she’s better than a fag,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The bankers daughter will open your account,
She welcomes a deposit, whatever the amount,
But want you withdrawal, you’ll pay to get it out,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The hasher’s daughter is always good for fun,
Never mind the hare, she fucks just like a bunny,
She will always give you a good run for your money,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The blacksmith’s daughter will let you use her forge,
You can stoke her furnace if you feel the urge,
Put your irons in her fire if you’ve got the nerve,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The bar-tender’s daughter prefers ’em mild and stout,
She’ll give you good head, her measure’s never short,
You won’t find her bitter when you tip her out,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The clock-maker’s daughter will make time for you,
You won’t need appointments – any time will do,
If your spring has run down, she’ll wind it up for you,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The grocer’s daughter is not left on the shelf,
If you like her stock then you can help yourself,
She’s open all hours with bonuses as well,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The rug-maker’s daughter likes to lay it down,
She spreads her wares out for you upon the ground,
She likes her underfelt and her tassels can be found,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The fur-trader’s daughter has a nice bit of fluff,
If you like some beaver, you will love her muff,
Once you’ve trapped her she likes to be stuffed,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The pilot’s daughter lets you in her cockpit,
You will roll with her hand on your joystick,
Sod the mile high club, go for her in-flight service,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The captain’s daughter has a navel base that’s full,
Of discharged seamen, but there’s room for you as well,
She got an honourable discharge from an Admiral,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The undertaker’s daughter can always take a stiff,
Let her light your fire or bury you beneath,
If things are looking grave you can get some grief,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
The harness-maker’s daughter will let you check her girth,
Climb into her saddle and ride for all you’re worth,
You’ll never come a cropper, you’ll get your money’s worth,
In the Old Bazaar in Cairo.
THE OLD IRISH STATE
Melody – Villikins and His Dinah
Provided by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
I’ll sing you a song of the old Irish race,
And the problems these poor people must face.
If you’re asked who’s got an IQ of 108,
It’s the total points scored by the whole Irish state.
CHORUS:
With an urr urr urr, and an arr arr arr arr,
They come from a-near and they come from afar,
To hear our heroes and also to see,
Who am the next one a-going to be.
Now Patrick was screwing for over an hour,
When he stopped and said to his girl in a glower,
“You’ve got nothing on top and nothing below.”
She said, “Get off my back, you silly old crow.”
Now Sean was a student at the top of his form,
“What’s 4 and 4?” said his mother, when he was at home.
“Seven,” he replied – said his father with glee,
“He’s such a clever lad, he only missed it by three.”
Mrs Riley went shopping for anti-perspirant,
“For my husband,” she said, “you know what I want.”
“It’s the ball type you’re after,” said the shopgirl, “I think.”
“No, for under his armpits is where the bugger do stink.”
“The defendant, did he rape you?” said the judge to Anna.
“Yes he did,” she replied in her most demure manner.
“And to the best of your knowledge, did he have a climax?”
“No, a Japanese Mazda, them be the facts.”
Now Mary O’Toole a gynecologist had seen.
He opened her legs and peered in between.
He said, “When did you last have a check-up in here?”
She said, “I’ve only had Hungarians for over a year.”
“Pilot Murphy to control tower, I want to come in.”
“Control tower to Murphy, instructions begin.
What’s your height and position, you stupid old runt?”
“I be five-foot-nine tall and I be sitting in front.”
Mrs O’Leary buried her husband, but her friend had found
That she’d left his bare arse sticking out of the ground.
“Why’d you do that, I’ve never seen such like?”
“Well, when I visit the grave, I can park me bike.”
Well the Jews tell us that they’re God’s chosen race,
But it could have been our fair land in its place.
For God went a searching, he looked all around,
But three wise men and a virgin just couldn’t be found.
OR WOULD YOU RATHER BE A ______?
Melody – Swinging on a Star
A Pom is an animal that drinks warm beers,
He whinges at everything he hears,
He wears a bowler and eats fish and chips,
He never showers so he stinks like shit,
So if you’re dirty and smelling kinda strong,
You could grow up to be a Pom.
CHORUS:
Or would you rather prop up a bar?
Drinking Singhas out of a jar?
And be better off than you are?
Or would you rather be a ______?
A Yank is an animal that don’t know jack shit,
He’s got no humor and no wit,
His beer’s like water and he talks too much,
He don’t even know that a fanny’s a crutch,
So if you can’t tell a jackoff from a wank,
You could grow up to be a Yank.
An Ocker is an animal with corks in his hat,
He’d rather drink piss than tickle twat,
He’s got a roo for a rabbit and a dingo for a dog,
He wishes he could think but he’s missing a cog,
So if you’re dumb and your manners are a shocker,
You could grow up to be an Ocker.
A Kiwi is an animal that likes to fuck sheep,
He’s so thick it makes you want to weep,
He’s so damn lazy that he lives on the dole,
He’d like to screw women but he can’t find their hole,
So if you can’t tell a ewe from a she,
You could grow up to be a Kiwi.
OU EST LE PAPIER?
Melody – La Marseillaise
Last verse contributed by Dirty Dingus
A Frenchman went to the lavat’ry,
To have him a jolly good shit, shit, shit
He took his coat and his trousers off,
So that he could revel in it, it it.
But when he reached for the paper,
He found that someone had been there before,
“Ou est le papier?
Ou est le papier?
Monsieur, monsieur, je fait manure.
Ou est le papier?”
Ouvrez le pantalon,
Display le grand baton,
Frappez, frappez, toujours frappez,
Aa-ah, c’est l’amour!
OVALTINE SONG
Melody – Hark, the Herald Angels Sing
Contributed by Steven Skaggs
Uncle George and Auntie Mabel
Fainted at the breakfast table.
Let that be an awful warning
NOT to do it in the morning.
Ovaltine has put them right,
Now they do it morn and night.
Uncle George is hoping soon
To do it in the afternoon.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Ovaltine’s a damn fine thing.”
PATRIOTIC SONG
Melody – ???
Asshole, asshole,
A soldier I would be.
To piss, to piss,
Two pistols on my knee.
Fuck you, fuck you,
For curiosity.
To fight for the old cunt, to fight for the old cunt,
To fight for the old country.
PISSANYA, PISSANYA
Melody – Itself
A favorite of the Seoul, Korea HHH
Pissanya, Pissanya, Pissanya,
It’s Russian for “I love ya,”
If I had my way I’d Pissanya all day,
Pissanya, Pissanya, Pissanya.
Shittanya, Shittanya, Shittanya,
It’s Russian for “I adore ya,”
If I had my way I’d Shittanya all day,
Shittanya, Shittanya, Shittanya.
Comeanya, Comeanya, Comeanya,
It’s Russian for “I worship ya,”
If I had my way I’d Comeanya all day,
Pissanya, Shittanya, Comeanya.
PLASTIC JESUS
Melody – Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4 (copyrighted material?)
I don’t care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car,
Through my trials and tribulations
And my travels through the nation
With my plastic Jesus I’ll go far
Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
I’m afraid he’ll have to go,
His magnets ruin my radio
And If I have a wreck, he’ll leave a scar
Riding through the thoroughfare,
With his nose up in the air
A wreck may be ahead, but he don’t mind
Trouble coming, he don’t see,
He just keeps his eyes on me
And any other thing that lies behind
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Though the sun that shines on his back
Makes him peel, chip, and crack
A little patching keeps him up to par
When pedestrians try to cross
I let them know who is boss
I never blow my horn or give them warning
I ride all over town,
Trying to run them down
And it’s seldom that they live to see the morning
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
His halo fits just right
And I use it as a sight
And they’ll scatter or they’ll splatter near and far
When I’m in a traffic jam
He don’t care if I say Damn
I can let all sorts of curses roll
Plastic Jesus doesn’t hear,
For he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Once his robe was snowy white,
Now it isn’t quite so bright
Stained by the smoke of my cigar
If I weave around at night
And the policemen think I’m tight
They’ll never find my bottle, though they ask
Plastic jesus shelters me,
For his head comes off, you see
He’s hollow and I use him for a flask
Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Ride with me and have a dram
Of the blood of the Lamb
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar
I don’t care if it’s dark or scary,
Long as I have magnetic Mary,
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my car,
I feel I’m protected amply,
I’ve got the whole damn Holy Family,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
No, I don’t care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car,
But I think he’ll have to go,
His magnet ruins my radio,
And if we have a wreck he’ll leave a scar.
I don’t care if it bumps or jostles
Long as I got the Twelve Apostles
Bolted to the dashboard of my car
Don’t I have a pious mess
Such a crowd of holiness
Strung across the dashboard of my car
God made Christ a Holy Jew
God made Him a Christian too
Paradoxes populate my car
Joseph beams with a feigned elan
From the shaggy dash of my furlined van
Famous cuckold in the master plan;
When I’m goin’ fornicatin’
I got my ceramic Satan
Sinnin’ on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
The women know I’m on the level
Thanks to the wild-eyed stoneware devil
Ridin’ on the dashboard of my . . .
Sneerin’ from the dashboard of my . . .
Leering from the dashboard of my van.
A PRAYER
Melody – Ach, Du Lieber, Augustin
Leader: And now, gentlemen, a prayer,
A prayer for the constipated.
Pack: SHIT!
Leader: A prayer for the frustrated.
Pack: FUCK!
Leader: A prayer for the dehydrated.
Pack: BEER!
Leader: A prayer for the emasculated.
Pack: BALLS!
Balls to Mr. Benglestein, Benglestein, Benglestein,
Balls to Mr. Benglestein, dirty old man.
He sits on the steeple and shits on the people,
So balls to Mr. Benglestein, dirty old man.
He keeps us all waiting while he’s masturbating,
So balls to Mr. Benglestein, dirty old man.
He ups and he downs them, he fucking well grinds them,
So balls to Mr. Benglestein, dirty old man.
RED FLAG
Melody – ???
The working class
Can kiss my arse,
I’ve got the foreman’s job at last.
I’m out of work,
And on the dole,
You can stuff the red flag
Up your hole.
‘Twas on Gibraltar’s rock, so fair,
I saw a maiden lying there.
And as she lay in sweet repose,
A puff of wind blew up her clothes.
A sailor who was passing by,
Tipped his hat and winked his eye.
And then he saw to his despair,
She had the red flag flying there.
RING THE BELL VERGER
Melody – The Verger
CHORUS:
Ring the bell verger, ring the bell, ring,
Perhaps the congregation will condescend to sing,
Perhaps the village organist, sitting on his stool,
Will play upon his organ and not upon his tool.
Ocean liner five months late,
Stoker stoking stoker’s mate,
Captain’s voice comes down the wire,
“Stop stoking mate and start stoking fire!”
Lordship’s chauffeur in the garage lies,
Lordship’s wife between his thighs,
Lordship’s voice comes from afar,
“Stop fucking wife and start fucking car!”
Part-time barman in the four-ale lurks,
Tossing off with erratic jerks,
The landlord’s voice begins to moan,
“Stop pulling plonker and start pulling foam!”
Verger in the belfry stood,
Grasped in his hand, his mighty pud,
From afar the vicar yells,
“Stop pulling pud and start pulling bell!”
Old time convict in the compound stands,
His pick lies idle in his hands,
The warden’s voice begins to moan,
“Stop picking prick and start picking stone!”
THE ROAD TO GUNDAGAI
Melody – Itself
There’s a crack winding back
From her belly to her back
On the road to Gundagai;
There’s a Yank there beside her,
You bet your balls he’ll ride her,
Beneath the starry sky;
With a Frenchie on his big prick,
He’ll ride her with ease,
As he scratches up the gravel
With both of his knees;
Though the time will come to pass
When he’ll whop it up her arse,
On the road to Gundagai.
ROEDEAN SCHOOL
Melody – We Shall Not Be Moved
(Take turns leading verses)
We are from Roedean, good girls are we,
We take great pride in our virginity,
We take precautions and avoid abortions,
For we are from the Roedean School.
CHORUS:
Up school, up school, up school,
Right up school!
Laah-lah, laah-lah, lah, lah, lah, lah, lah,
Laah-lah, laah-lah, lah, lah, lah, lah, lah.
Our school porter, he is a fool,
He’s only got a teeny weeny tool,
All right for keyholes and little girlies’ peeholes,
But not for girls from Roedean School.
When we go out to the vicar’s for tea,
He likes to bounce us up and down on his knee,
He feed him brandy, which makes him feel randy,
For we are from Roedean School.
When we go down to the beach for a swim,
The people remark on the size of our quim,
You can bet your bottom dollar, it’s big as a horse’s collar,
For we are from Roedean School.
Our head prefect, her name is Jane,
She only likes it now and again,
AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN,
For she is from Roedean School.
Our house mistress, she can’t be beat,
She lets us go walking in the street,
We sell our titties for three-penny bitties,
Right outside of Roedean School.
Our sports mistress, she is the best,
She teaches us how to develop our chest,
We wear tight sweaters and carry French letters,
For we are from Roedean School.
Each week at Roedean we have a dance,
We don’t wear bras and we don’t wear pants,
We like to give all the fellows a chance,
For we are from Roedean School.
Our head gardener, he makes us drool,
He’s got a great big dirty whoppin’ tool,
All right for tunnels and Queen Mary’s funnels,
And great for the girls at Roedean School.
We have a new girl, her name is Flo,
Nobody thought that she would have a go,
But she surprised the vicar by raising him quicker,
Than any other girl at Roedean School.
We are from Roedean, lesbos are we,
Caused by living in an all-girls dormit’ry,
It’s light out at seven, candles out at eleven,
For we are from Roedean School.
We go to Roedean, don’t we have fun,
We know exactly how it is done,
When we lie down we hole it in one,
For we are from Roedean School.
Those girls from Cheltenham, they are just sissies,
They get worked up over one or two kisses,
It takes wax candles and long broom handles,
To rouse the girls at Roedean School.
We go to Roedean, we can be had,
Don’t take our word, boy, ask your old dad,
He brings his friends for breath-taking trends,
For we are from Roedean School.
In our winter we wear our J.D.’s,
Long combinations well below our knees,
It’s all right for dragging, but no good for shagging,
For we are from Roedean School.
ROLL YOUR LEG OVER
Melody – Oh, Sally, My Dear
If all the young girls were like fish in the ocean,
I’d be a whale and I’d show them the motion.
CHORUS:
Oh, roll your leg over, oh, roll your leg over,
Roll your leg over the man in the moon.
If all the young girls were like fish in a pool,
I’d be a shark with a waterproof tool.
If all the young girls were like fish in the brookie,
I’d be a trout and I’d get me some nookie.
If all the young girls were like winds on the sea,
I’d be a sail and I’d have them blow me.
If all the young girls were like cows in the pasture,
I’d be a bull and I’d fill them with rapture.
If all the young girls were like mares in the stable,
I’d be a stallion and show them I’m able.
If all the young girls were like bricks in a pile,
I’d be a mason and lay them in style.
If all the young girls were like bells in a tower,
I’d be a clapper and bang them each hour.
If all the young girls were like telephone poles,
I’d be a squirrel and stuff nuts in their holes.
If all the young girls were like gals down in Sydney,
I ain’t got much left but I’ve still got one kidney.
If all the young girls were like B-29s,
I’d be a jet fighter and buzz their behinds.
If all the young girls were like coals in a stoker,
I’d be a fireman and shove in my poker.
If all the young girls were like statues of Venus,
And I were equipped with a petrified penis.
If all the young girls were like Gypsy Rose Lee,
I’d be a G-string; oh boy, what I’d see.
If all the young girls were like sheep in the clover,
I’d be a ram and I’d ram them all over.
If all the young girls were like pancakes in Texas,
I’d be a Texan and eat them for breakfast.
If all the young girls were like grapes on the vine,
I’d be a plucker and have me a time.
If all the young girls were singing this song,
It’d be twice as dirty and five times as long.
If all the young girls were like trees in the forest,
I’d be a woodsman and climb their clitoris.
If all the young girls were diamonds and rubies,
I’d be a jeweler and polish their boobies.
If all the young girls were like little white flowers
I’d be a bee and suck them for hours.
If all the young girls were linear spaces,
And I were a vector, I’d aim for their bases.
If all the young girls wore dresses with patches,
I’d tear off their patches to get at their snatches.
If all the young girls were vessels of clay
I’d be a potter and make them all day.
SCROTUM
Melody – Jada
Scrotum. Scrotum.
S-C-R-O-T-U-M.
Mangy, scrungy,
S-C-R-O-T-U-M.
Scrotum, scrotum,
Covered with hair.
What would you do
If it wasn’t there?
Scrotum, scrotum,
It’s what we keep our gonads in!
SEXIATUS MANIA
Melody – Gregorian Chant
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
Sexiatus mania,
Frustratum randium,
Sexiatus mania,
Frustratum randium,
Prostitutum contracoptum,
Hand et fingum masturbatum,
Satisfactor relievium,
Satisfactor relievium.
THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC (I)
Melody – Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane
There are many versions of this song; not all are written down. This one contains some home-made verses – F.B.
Oh, they built the ship Titanic, to sail the ocean blue,
And they thought they’d built a ship the water couldn’t get through.
But an iceberg on the wave, sent it to its watery grave,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
CHORUS:
It was sad, (so sad), it was sad, (too bad),
It was sad when that great ship went down,
To the bottom of the . . . HUSBANDS AND WIVES, LITTLE CHILDREN LOST THEIR LIVES!
It was sad when that great ship went down.
Oh, they sailed from Plymouth, England, and were halfway to the shore,
When the rich refused to associate with the poor.
So they put the poor below, where they were the first to go,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
(Chorus): UNCLES AND AUNTS, THEY PISSED RIGHT IN THEIR PANTS!
Oh, that ship was full of sin, and the sides about to burst,
When the captain shouted, “Women and children first!”
Then he tried to send a wire, but the wires were all on fire,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
(Chorus): CHILDREN, THEY CRIED, AS THE WAVES SWEPT O’ER THE SIDE!
Oh, the crew was not afraid, as they tried to lower boats,
But the waves were cruel, and nary a boat would float.
So they put on their lifevests, and prepared themselves for death,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
(Chorus): LADY ASTOR IN HER GOWN, HAD TO WATCH HER HUSBAND DROWN!
Oh, the captain was at fault, and was just about to flee,
When the band struck up with “A-Nearer My God to Thee!”
And the steerage passengers, were left to drown like curs,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
(Chorus): HOW THEY DID PLEA, AS THEY SLIPPED BENEATH THE SEA!
(Special verse): But in the captain’s cabin, the spirits they did find,
And they began to swill, as they floated in the brine.
And the liquor in their veins, kept them warm upon the main,
It was glad when that great ship went down!
(Special Chorus): It was glad (so glad), it was glad (so glad),
It was glad when that great ship went down,
To the bottom of the . . . CHAMPAGNE AND WHISKEY, THEY WENT DOWN FEELING FRISKY!
It was glad when that great ship went down.
Oh, the moral of this story is very plain to see,
You must wear your life preserver when you are out to sea.
Or you may find yourself aswim, facing fate that’s all too grim,
It was sad when that great ship went down.
(Chorus): MIGHTY OR MEEK, YOU CAN’T TREAD WATER FOR A WEEK!
THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC (II)
Melody – Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane
This may be the “official” version – F.B.
Oh they built the ship Titanic
To sail the ocean blue
And they thought they had a ship
That the water would never go through;
But the Lord’s Almighty hand
Said that ship would never land,
It was sad when that great ship went down
CHORUS:
It was sad. It was sad.
It was sad when the great ship went down.
(to the bottom of the…)
Husbands and wives,
Little children lost their lives
It was sad when the great ship went down.)
They were off for England
And not very far from shore
When the rich refused
To associate with the poor
So they sent them down below
Where they’d be the first to go
It was sad when that great ship went down
The boat was about to sink,
And the sides about to burst,
When the captain shouted, “All
Women and children first!”
Oh, the captain tried to wire,
But the wires was on fire,
It was sad when the great ship went down.
Oh, they swung the lifeboats out
O’er the deep and ragin’ sea,
When the band struck up with,
“Nearer My God to Thee.”
Little children wept and cried,
As the waves swept o’er the side,
It was sad when the great ship went down.
SOD ‘EM ALL
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/bless-em-all/
From Jacksing, by Sharkey Ward, the official Royal Navy version
Sod ’em all, sod ’em all,
The long and the short and the tall,
Sod all the sergeants and W.O. ones,
Sod all the corporals and their bastard sons.
For we’re saying goodbye to them all,
As back to their billets they crawl,
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean,
So cheer up my lads, sod ’em all.
Sod ’em all, sod ’em all,
The skipper, the jimmy and all,
Sod all the yeomen and C.P.O. tels,
Sod the chief sloshies and their bleeding smells.
For we’re saying goodbye to them all,
As back to their hammocks they crawl,
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean,
So cheer up my lads, sod ’em all.
Sod ’em all, sod ’em all,
The jaunty, the crusher and all,
Sod all the shipwrights and C.P.O. cooks,
Sod all the paybobs with their bleeding books.
For we’re saying goodbye to them all,
As back to their hammocks they crawl,
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean,
So cheer up my lads, sod ’em all.
Sod ’em all, sod ’em all,
The admiral, the flag-jack and all,
Sod all the O.A.s and E.A.s as well,
Sod the chief stoker and send him to hell.
For we’re saying goodbye to them all,
As back to their hammocks they crawl,
You’ll get no promotion this side of the ocean,
So cheer up my lads, sod ’em all.
SOME DIE OF DRINKING WATER
Melody – British Grenadier
Some die of drinking water,
And some of drinking beer,
Some die of constipation,
And some of diarrhea.
But of all the world’s diseases,
There’s none that can compare,
With the drip, drip, drip of the syphilitic prick
Of a British Grenadier (or Hash House Harrier).
When he goes forth in battle,
His weapon in his hand,
The lasses fall like cattle,
There’s none can make a stand.
But when the campaign’s over,
It’s then he feels so queer,
With the drip, drip, drip of the syphilitic prick
Of a British Grenadier (or Hash House Harrier).
And when he does retire,
To take his well-earned rest,
There burns an ancient fire,
To do what he does best.
And yet, the truth is bitter,
There’s one thing he does fear,
It’s the drip, drip, drip of the syphilitic prick
Of a British Grenadier (or Hash House Harrier).
I like the girls who say they will,
And I like the girls who won’t.
I hate the girls who say they will,
And then they say they won’t.
But of all the girls I like the best,
I may be wrong or right,
Are the girls who say they never will,
But look as though they might.
SPANISH GUITAR
Melody – same as for “Marriage a la Mode” in the Sweet Lovin’ section, above
From the songbook of the 44th TFS, Kadena Air Base, Japan
Oh, the first port of call was Aden, Aden,
Where the girls wouldn’t fuck, but we made ’em, made ’em,
Two dollars you pay, for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, singing:
CHORUS:
Hi-ziggy-ziggy, fuck a little piggy sideways, swish, swish,
My idea of a woman is a big fat whore,
Shit-bang, fuck-stick,
Two dollars you pay for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, plink, plink, plink.
Oh, the next port of call was Boston, Boston,
Where the girls wouldn’t fuck, but we forced ’em, forced ’em,
Two dollars you pay, for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, singing:
Oh, the next port of call was Malta, Malta,
Where the girls wouldn’t fuck, but oughta, oughta,
Two dollars you pay, for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, singing:
Oh, the next port of call was Suwon, Suwon,
Where the girls would do it for two won, two won,
Two dollars you pay, for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, singing:
Oh, the next port of call was Takhli, Takhli,
Where the girls would do it for free, for free,
Two dollars you pay, for a bang-up each way,
And a tune on a Spanish guitar, singing:
SWEET VIOLETS (I)
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike (verses)/Sweet Violets (chorus)
There once was a farmer who took a young miss,
In back of the barn where he gave her a
Lecture on horses and chickens and eggs,
And told her that she had such beautiful
Manners that suited a girl of her charms,
A girl that he wanted to take in his
Washing and ironing, and then if she did,
They could get married and raise lots of
CHORUS:
Sweet violets, sweeter than all the roses,
Covered all over from head to toe,
Covered all over in sweet violets.
She said to the farmer that he’d better stop,
Then she called her father, and he called a
Taxi and got there before very long,
‘Cause someone was doing his little girl
Right for a change, so these are the words that he said,
If you marry her son, you’re better off
Single because it has always been my belief,
That marriage will bring a man nothing but
She told the farmer she’d wed and she’d wait,
And he started in planning for his wedding
Suit which he purchased for only one buck,
And then he found out he was all out of
Money, and so he was left in the lurch,
A-standing and waiting in front of the
End of the story which just goes to show,
All a girl wants from a man is his
SWEET VIOLETS (II)
Melody – Sweet Violets
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Sweet violets, sweeter than the roses,
Covered all over from head to toe,
Covered all over in SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!
My father was a coal miner,
A coal miner that he was.
Sometimes he’d shovel up coal dust,
And sometimes he’d shovel up SHIT!
My brother was a pilot,
A pilot that he was,
Sometimes he’d land on the runway,
And sometimes he’d land in the SHIT!
My wife, she died on the toilet,
She died of a horrible fit,
And to satisfy her last wishes,
She was buried in six feet of SHIT!
My father went to the woodshed,
Some wood he wanted to split,
But when he grabbed hold of the handle,
He found it was covered with SHIT!
Phyllis Quat kept a sack in the garden,
I was curious I must admit,
One day I stuck in my finger,
And pulled it out covered in SHIT!
I sat in a gold lavatory,
In the home of the Baron of Split,
The seat was encrusted with rubies,
But as usual the bowl contained SHIT!
My brother he worked in a sewer,
Some lamps they had to be lit,
One evening there was an explosion,
And my brother was covered in SHIT!
Phyllis Quat took a bag to her boy-friend’s,
But the paper was old and it split,
Now the boyfriend and Phyllis have parted,
For the bag was packed quite full of SHIT!
Well, now my song is ended,
And I have finished by bit,
And if any of you feel offended,
Stick your head in a bucket of SHIT!
TEN STICKS OF DYNAMITE
Melody – Ten Green Bottles
Ten sticks of dynamite hanging on the wall,
Ten sticks of dynamite hanging on the wall,
And if one stick of dynamite should accidentally fall,
THERE’D BE NO FUCKING DYNAMITE AND NO FUCKING WALL!
THERE WAS AN OLD FARMER
Melody – Sweet Betsy from Pike
There was an old farmer who sat on a rock,
Shaking and waving his big hairy
Fist at the ladies next door in the Ritz,
Who taught the young girls to play with their
Kite strings and marbles and all things galore,
Along came a lady who looked like a
Decent young lady, but walked like a duck,
She thought she’d invented a new way to
Bring up the children, to sew and to knit,
The boys in the stable were shoveling
Litter and paper from yesterday’s hunt,
And old farmer Potter was having some
Cake in the stables and singing this song,
And if you think it’s dirty,
You’re fucking well wrong!
THEY’RE MOVING FATHER’S GRAVE
Melody – I Wish I Were an Oscar-Meyer Weiner
They’re moving father’s grave to build a sewer,
They’re moving it regardless of expense,
They’re moving his remains to lay down shithouse drains,
To satisfy some nearby residents.
Now, what’s the use of having a religion?
For when you die your troubles never cease,
When some high-society twit needs a pipeline for his shit,
They won’t let poor father rest in peace.
My father in his life was ne’er a quitter,
I’m sure that he’ll not be a quitter now,
He’ll put on a white sheet and haunt the shithouse seat,
And he’ll only let them shit when he’ll allow.
Oh, won’t there be some pains of constipation!
And won’t those shithouse bastards rant and rave!
But they’ll get what they deserve, for they had the bloody nerve,
To bugger up a British workman’s grave.
THREE CHINESE CRACKERS
Melody – Hail Britannia
Hail Britannia, marmalade and jam,
Three Chinese crackers up your asshole,
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Hail Britannia, marmalade and jam,
Two Chinese crackers up your asshole,
Bang! Bang! (and so on . . .)
TONIGHT WE MARCH AGAINST ENGLAND
Melody – Itself
Yes, this is a real song, quite popular in the Spring of 1938, translated into English and taught me by Luftwaffe fighter pilots . . . no shit! F.B.
The flag flies high on the masthead,
We fight for the freedom of the Reich (sieg Heil!),
No longer will we tremble,
At England’s military might.
So give to me your hand, fraulein,
Your lily-white hand, fraulein,
For tonight we march against England,
England’s island shores, island shores.
And if I fall in battle,
And sink to the bottom of the sea (big splash!),
Remember this, my darling,
My blood was shed for thee.
VEGETABLES ARE THE BEST
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
CHORUS:
Vegetables are the best, girls,
Vegetables are the best – EAT YOUR GREENS!
Vegetables are the best, girls,
Vegetables are the best.
Do the deed with a weed, girls,
Do the deed with a weed – VEGETABLES!
Do the deed with a weed, girls,
Do the deed with a weed, ’cause . . .
OTHER VERSES:
Fellatio with a potato, girls
Take a dyke on with a daikan, boys
Shave the fuzz off a peach, boys
Slip a rubba on a rutabaga, girls
Be a fairy with a strawberry, boys
Try humpin’ a pumpkin, lads
Tickle your root with a shoot, boys
Tickle your clit with a pickle, girls
No need for the pill with a dill, girls
Stick a cuke up your chute, girls
Fill your chute with a root, girls
Squeeze a kumquat in your twat, girls
Give a wedgie to a veggie, boys
Drink the pee of a broccoli
A gourd will always stay hard, girls
Elope with a cantaloupe, girls
Go goose a spruce, lads
Wine and dine a fine pine, men
Stuff some grass up your ass, boys
Debauchery with the shrubbery, boys
Rub your tube with a tuber, boys
Wheat germ makes your squirm, girls
Rub your slit hard with rhubarb, girls
Get frisky with some kim chee, girls
Give him a horn with some corn, girls
Make him green with a bean, girls
Get defrocked by a stalk, father
Venial sins with the California Raisins, girls
Stiffen your root with a Kiwi fruit, boyth
etc . . .
WALKING DOWN CANAL STREET
Melody – ???
Walking down Canal Street,
Knocking on every door,
Goddamn sonofabitch,
Couldn’t find a whore.
When I finally found a whore,
She was tall and thin,
Goddamn sonofabitch,
Couldn’t get it in.
When I finally got it in,
I turned it all about,
Goddamn sonofabitch,
Couldn’t get it out.
When I finally got it out,
It was red and sore,
Goddamn sonofabitch,
You should never fuck a whore.
WEE WEE SONG
Melody – Itself
When I was just a wee wee tot,
They put me on my wee wee pot.
There I was to wee wee,
Wee wee quite a lot.
CHORUS:
Wee wee, wee wee, wee wee.
So there I sat on my wee wee pot.
But wee wee I could not.
So they put me in my wee wee cot,
There I wee weed quite a lot.
YELLOW RYDER TRUCK
Melody – Yellow Submarine
Dedicated to the victorious Mexican Army at the Houston HHH San Jacinto Day Run, April 21, 1986
In the town where I was born,
Lived a man who Hashed the land,
And he told us of his life, in the back of Ryder trucks.
So we ran up to the sun till we found the land of trucks,
And we lived a life of sleaze, in our yellow Ryder truck.
CHORUS:
We all live in a yellow Ryder truck,
Yellow Ryder truck,
Yellow Ryder truck,
We all live in a yellow Ryder truck,
Yellow Ryder truck,
Yellow Ryder truck.
Most of our friends are all aboard,
Many more of them party next door,
And the Hashers begin to chant (CHORUS)
As we live a life of sleaze,
Every one of us has all we need,
Plenty of beer and lots of fucks,
In our yellow Ryder truck.
YOU WON’T FIND ANY COUNTRY (I)
Melody – The Irish Rover
Jakarta version
I’ve searched the world over, excitement I’ve sought,
But all my experience was dearly bought.
CHORUS:
So it’s no, nay, never,
No nay never no more,
You won’t find any country,
Where it pays you to score.
To tap a Yank for a good screw, in my belief,
Is like asking Mrs. Custer to give to Indian relief,
in the last year or two they’ve not used their tush,
‘Cause they’re shagged up the arse by a cowboy called Bush.
The Dutch they just sit there, arsehole on bike,
One finger up nostril and one in a dyke,
And if they feel chilly when these things they perform,
They put their caps up girls’ pussies to keep their heads warm.
Now haircuts for Germans are four times the price,
They charge for each corner and go over it twice,
And if you pick up a harlot now don’t throw her out,
Though her snatch it smells strongly, they just love sauerkraut.
The Swiss nation at loving are antiseptic,
They put germolene, not vaseline, on their prick,
The Swiss yodel is to cover their sheeps’ anguished calls,
For their Toblerone pricks make triangular holes.
The Aussies are known for their intake of beer,
And they’ve all been in Sidney, now isn’t that queer,
To keep flies off from their hat corks are hung,
‘Cause a zipper can be painful if caught on the tongue.
YOU WON’T FIND ANY COUNTRY (II)
Melody – The Irish Rover
Hong Kong version, contributed by Malibog
I’ve Hashed the world over,
Excitement I’ve sought.
But all my experience,
Was dearly bought.
CHORUS:
So it’s no nay never,
No nay never, no more,
You won’t find any country,
It pays you to score.
To tap a Yank for a screw, in my belief,
Is like asking Mrs Custer, to give to Indian Relief.
So the options are slim for those left wanton,
And they end up with an in-bred – Hill-Billy Clinton.
Now haircuts for Germans are four times the price,
They charge for each corner, and go over it twice.
The Dutch they just sit there, arsehole on bike,
One finger up nostril and one in a dyke.
The Aussies are known for their intake of beer,
And they’ve all been in Sydney, now isn’t that queer?
But the Kiwis have the answer to get their country on track,
Just continue to malinger on the woolly sheep’s back.
The closest to sex in Japan is to suck on a mike,
For the girls they will tell you to go take a hike.
So its off to Manila where you can score, there’s no doubt,
But every time that you put it in, a baby comes out.
So now stuck here in Hong Kong and you’re feeling glum,
You can go to the dolly bars and they’ll treat you like scum.
So you think that the Gweilos are okay for a bash,
Doubtful Howard’s been there – but you could still get a rash.
——————————————————————————–
JUST PLAIN SICK!
Born Dead
Dead Whore
Disease Song
Donnie the Retard
Incest is Best
Incest Time in Texas
Mud Pie
My Girl’s a Vegetable
My Name is Jack (Necrophilia Song)
Necrophilia’s Best
S & M Man
S & M Girl
BORN DEAD
Melody – Born Free
Born dead!
Your baby was born dead;
All torso and no head,
Born dead to live in a jar.
Stay dead!
Don’t come back to haunt me;
You really don’t want me,
Born dead to live in a jar.
Brain dead!
Your husband is brain dead;
A vein popped in his head,
That sucker’s a mort.
DEAD WHORE (Two versions)
Melody – My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
Second version by Dennis “Mu-Sick” Gill, Ft Walton Beach HHH, Florida
I fucked a dead whore by the roadside,
I knew right away she was dead,
The skin was all gone from her tummy,
The hair was all gone from her head.
Dead whore, dead whore,
I knew right away she was dead, was dead.
Dead whore, dead whore,
I knew right away she was dead.
And as I lay down there beside her,
I knew right away I had sinned,
So I put my lips to her sweet pussy,
And sucked out the load I shot in.
Sucked out, sucked out,
I sucked out the load I shot in, shot in,
Sucked out, sucked out,
I sucked out the load I shot in.
______
I passed a dead whore on the roadside,
I knew right away she was dead.
For the skin on her stomach was flaking,
She hadn’t a hair on her head, her head,
She hadn’t a hair on her head.
CHORUS:
Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my dead whore to me,
Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my dead whore to me.
I first met my dead whore at Mitch’s,
With a horrible snail-sucking face.
She’d roll them around on her tongue, oh,
And barf them back up in your face, your face,
And barf them back up in your face.
My dead whore looked into a gas tank,
The contents of it for to see.
I lit a match to assist her,
Oh bring back my dead whore to me, to me,
Oh bring back my dead whore to me.
While nibbling my dead whore’s festered nipples,
A horrible thing to discuss,
I thought it was milk I was sucking,
But no, it was only green pus, green pus,
But no, it was only green pus.
My dead whore’s vagina was swelling,
A condition I thought would soon pass,
I stuck in my prick to explore it,
And she farted green gas from her ass, her ass,
She farted green gas from her ass.
I thought of a way of preserving,
My dead whore for posterity.
I’d dry her like a piece of beef jerky,
With a leathery twat just for me, for me,
With a leathery twat just for me.
I French-kissed my dead whore, named Merly,
I liked how she wiggled her tongue.
But after an evening of kissing,
I realized it was maggots from her lung, her lung,
I realized it was maggots from her lung.
Once, upon thinking it over,
I realized my terrible sin.
So I stuck my lips to her sweet pussy,
And sucked out the load I shot in, shot in,
And sucked out the load I shot in.
But before I could extract that jism,
My dead whore was pregnant, and more.
Inside the maternity morgue,
She gave birth to a dead baby whore, baby whore,
She gave birth to a dead baby whore.
(To the tune of Born Free)
Born dead, your baby was born dead.
Three fingers and no head.
Born dead to live in a jar.
Stay dead, don’t come back to haunt me;
You really don’t want me.
Born dead to live in a jar.
DISEASE SONG
Melody – O How I Love Jesus
Composed by Splat, East Bay HHH
O how I love Anthrax, O how I love Anthrax, O how I love Anthrax, You used it to lay trail!
O how I love Herpes . . . You gave the Herp to me!
O how I love the Clap . . . At least I did get laid!
O how I love the Lyme . . . At least I did get sucked!
O how I love Rabies . . . That dog was sure surprised!
O how I love Jaundice . . . My liver’s not dead yet!
O how I love DTs . . . It’s time to drink some more!
O how I love buckshot . . . That farmer sure hates me!
O how I love PO . . . It spreads from hand to dick!
O how I love blueballs . . . She said, “Let’s just be friends!”
O how I love backaches . . . He said, “I’m just too drunk!”
I how I love the AIDS . . . I got it from your wife!
O how I love Tourette’s . . . Fuck shit piss cock ass!
O how I love the ‘Rhoids . . . Better them than you!
O how I love the SARS . . . (cough twice and collapse.)
DONNIE THE RETARD
Melody – Frosty the Snowman
Donnie the retard,
Had an eight pound watermelon head,
He was six feet tall and said to me,
Hiiii myyy naaaame issss Donnnnie!
INCEST IS BEST
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
Contributed by Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
(Take turns leading verses)
CHORUS:
Incest is best, boys,
Incest is best – FUCK A RELATIVE!
Incest is best, boys,
Incenst is best.
Give a piece to your niece, boys,
Give a piece to your niece – INCEST!
Give a piece to your niece, boys,
Give a piece to your niece, because . . .
OTHER VERSES:
Put your knob in Uncle Bob, boys
Give a blow to your Bro, girls
Shower your Sis with some piss, boys
My significant other’s my Brother, girls
Shoot some goo on Aunt Sue, boys
Do the bum of your Mum, boys
Give a kiss to your Sis, boys
Make love to your Coz, boys
I’ve just had my Dad, girls
Put your Sis in bliss, boys
Let’s fuck Uncle Buck, girls
Rub your palm on your Mom, boys
Hide the salami in your Mommie, boys
INCEST TIME IN TEXAS
Melody – Yellow Rose of Texas
When it’s incest time in Texas,
When there’s no cunt to be found,
Your mother’s in the bathroom,
With her panties halfway down,
No time for masturbation,
No time to beat your meat,
When it’s incest time in Texas,
Mother-fucking can’t be beat!
MUD PIE
Melody – Rawhide
Composed by Guamarhea Balls, Corpus Christi Bay Area Larrikins HHH
Bowels movin’ movin’ movin,
My stomach’s disaprovin’
My anus started droolin’ . . . Mud Pie!
Don’t know why we ate ’em,
Eggs, flour, salsa, bacon,
Seemed like a good plan at the time.
My sphincter’s percolatin’
There’s no time for debatin’,
Debatin’ the Taqueria’s crime.
Pinch it off, hold it in,
Pinch it off, hold it in,
Pinch it off, hold it in . . . Mud Pie!
Pinch it off, hold it in,
Hold it in, pinch it off,
Tighten up, hold it in . . . Mud Pie!
It’s swollen, swollen, swollen,
Why’s my ass so swollen?
I think I see my colon . . . outside!
My ass is palpitatin’
That turd is tired of waitin’
Waitin’ for that magic toilet ride.
All my muscles tighten,
That natural urge I’m fightin’
To try and keep the turtle’s head inside.
Pinch it off, hold it in,
Pinch it off, hold it in,
Pinch it off, hold it in . . . Mud Pie!”
MY GIRL’S A VEGETABLE
Melody – My Girl’s a Corker, She’s a New Yorker
My girl’s a vegetable, she lives in a hospital,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She has no arms or legs, she looks like a pony keg
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She’s got a new TV, they call it an EKG,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
Her EKG it does not rise, but she still spreads her thighs,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
My girl has long blond hair, it’s in patches here and there ,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She can’t get out of bed, still, she can give me head,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She’s got no arms or legs, she’s got two wooden pegs,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
I’m always guaranteed a blow, because she can’t say no,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She has no feet or hands, her head’s connected with rubber bands,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
She might not live the night, that means that she won’t fight,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
My girl lives in an iron lung, but she can still give real good tongue,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
My girl has leprosy, parts always stick to me,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
My girl had a tracheotomy, so she can breathe while she’s blowing me,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
My girl’s in a constant spasm, that’s how she gives me orgasm,
I’d do most anything, to keep her alive.
MY NAME IS JACK (NECROPHILIA SONG)
Melody – Itself
Perv verses by Flying Booger
My name is Jack (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I’m a necrophiliac (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I fucks dead wimmen (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And I fills ’em full of jism.
I get frustrated (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
When they’re cremated (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Cause try as I must (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I can’t fuck dust!
Each time I pass a cemetery gate,
I whip it out and masturbate.
My name is Judy (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
My favorite stiff’s a beauty (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Though his pecker’s soft and thin (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I find his femur slips right in.
Most girls like their guys aware (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Me, I prefer Joe’s lifeless stare (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Don’t you call me a ghoul (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Just ’cause my Joe’s real cool!
Each time I pass the mortuary gate,
My vagina starts to lubricate.
My name is Phil (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I likes my wimmen still (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I whack off in (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
An occupied coffin.
I love wrinkly wimmen (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Who are over sixty-five (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Especially if they died (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
At twenty-five!
Each day I try to copulate,
With my favorite deceased mate.
My name is Mary (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I met my lover through an obituary (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
So what if he’s dead (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
At least he doesn’t fart in bed.
I like his leathery skin (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I can poke it with a pin (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And when the worms come out his butt (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I feed them to the mutt!
Every time I see a crematory urn,
My genitals begin to burn.
My name is Ron (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I get a hard-on (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
When I see a redhead (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Who’s deader than dead.
You don’t polka or waltz (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
With a girl with no pulse (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I like my wimmen old (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I prefer my wimmen cold!
Each time I pass a mausoleum,
My shorts fill up with creaum.
My name is Denise (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
My man is deceased (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I think it’s wise (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
To love a man who’s demised.
I broke into his tomb (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Took him home to my room (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
My mother Doris (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Admires his rigor mortis!
Each time I pass the old graveyard,
I find my nipples getting hard.
My name is Mitch (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And I dig a wealthy bitch (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Not because she’s really rich (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
But ’cause she’s in a six-foot ditch.
Most like their ladies hot (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I rather fancy not (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Just in case you have forgotten (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I prefer my wimmen rotten!
Each time I pass a funeral pyre,
My libido catches fire.
My name is Gertrude (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Now you may think this rather rude (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
But I don’t find it crude (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
To go down on a dead dude.
He won’t come in my mouth (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
His sex drive has gone south (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
He won’t take my money (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And he’ll never call me Honey!
Each time I hear a funeral dirge,
I get the old carnal urge.
My name is Paul (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
My girl doesn’t move at all (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
It’s not that she’s frigid (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
It’s ’cause she’s rigid.
Most like their wimmen quick (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Personally, the thought makes me sick (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I fairly dread (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Sleeping with the Undead!
Every time I see a hearse,
My akey-breaky balls ache worse.
My name is Mary Beth (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I’m actually into death (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Once they’re dead I don’t get high (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I want them AS they die.
As they start to come (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I crush their windpipes with my thumb (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
When my lovers have death spasms (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I enjoy multiple orgasms!
Each time I pass a burial plot,
It stimulates my G-spot.
My name is Earl (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Some people think I’m quite a churl (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I once exhumed a little girl (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I love the way her toenails curl.
I take satisfaction (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
In advanced putrefaction (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Her toothy grin and concave cheek (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Her sexy decomposing reek!
Each time I pass a funeral wake,
I grow a monster one-eyed snake.
My name is Monique (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I’m a necro-lesbian freak (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I love vaginal cavities (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Of expired celebrities.
Once in a very lusty mood (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I dug up Natalie Wood (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I used a casket hoist (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And found her still delectably moist!
When I visit memorial parks,
My pussy starts emitting sparks.
My name is Brucie (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I’m weird and fey and swishy (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
My lover once was hetero (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
But in death he’s my special homo.
I used to like to fist him (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I could get my whole hand in (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
But now he’s overused (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
His rotting bum is simply huge!
Each time I pass a sarcophagus,
I’m seized with homosexual lust.
My name is Manfred (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Sheep are so hot when they’re dead (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
I hit and killed one on the road (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And I shot off a mother-load.
I keep my decomposing lambkin (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
Its starting to lose a lot of skin (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
There’s parts where you can see its skeleton (deedle-deedle-deedle-dum),
And other parts I like to put my tongue in!
Every time I pass a farm,
My skivvies fill with juices warm.
NECROPHILIA’S BEST
Melody – Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys
Yet another perverse variation of Bestiality’s Best, contributed by (who else?) Zippy, Pike’s Peak H4
CHORUS:
Necrophilia’s best, boys,
Necrophilia’s best – FUCK A CADAVER!
Necrophilia’s best, boys,
Necrophilia’s best.
Give head to the dead, girls
Give head to the dead – NECROPHILIA!
Give head to the dead, girls,
Give head to the dead, ’cause . . .
OTHER VERSES:
Do it lots ‘fore she rots, boys
Fuck her defunct cunt, boys
Get down and dirty with Jackie, OH!, boys
Do your boffin’ in a coffin, mates
Plant your pelvis on Elvis, girls
Rub your slit on Sonny Stitt, girls
Suck the dong of Mao Tse-Tung, girls
Sink your cable in Betty Grable, boys
Go to bed with the dead, Fred
Use the staff of a stiff, girls
Grunt and strain with Kurt Cobain, girls
The best of course is a corpse, boys
Can Nixon still get his Dick in, girls?
Suck some decomposed toes, girls
Stroke her hips in a crypt, boys
Get some authentic skull, mates
Jack off on old Jackie, boys
Shoo the flies off her thighs, guys
Shoot some creum in a mausoleum, boys
Pinch your nipples hard in the graveyard, girls
That Kim Il Sung is sure hung, girls
THE S & M MAN
Melody – The Candy Man
(Take turns leading verses)
Who will run through jaggers (who will run through jaggers),
Ripping up his flesh (ripping up his flesh),
And turn right around,
And repeat the bloody mess?
It’s the S&M man.
CHORUS:
Oh, the S&M man,
The S&M man because he mixes it with love,
And makes the hurt feel good (Yes the hurt feel good)
Who wears pants with zippers,
And no underwear,
Then pulls them up and down,
And rips out his pubic hair?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a razor,
And no shaving cream,
Scrape her pussy bald,
While he listens to her scream?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take an old saw,
Rusty but still cuts,
Pull it back and forth,
Until he rips off his own nuts?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a bottle,
Shove it up your ass,
Hit it with a hammer,
And line your ass with glass?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take your scrotum,
Stick it with a pin,
Hang on a bunch of weights,
Till it drags down to your shins?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take your penis,
Slam it in a door,
Slam it in a door,
So you can’t fuck anymore?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a sander,
Make sure it’s Black and Decker,
Rub it up and down,
Until you’ve got a bleeding pecker?
It’s the S&M man.
Who would take a condom,
Put pepper in the ring,
Use it on the wife,
‘Cause she twitches when it stings?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a mallet,
Claim that he’s a stud,
Smash it on his pecker,
Till it starts to ooze blood?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take your penis,
Tie it in a knot,
Tie it in a knot,
Until the sucker rots?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take sandpaper,
Rough like fifty grit,
Rub it on her pussy,
Until she has no clit?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take two ice picks,
Stick one in each ear,
And ride her like a Harley,
While he roots her up the rear?
It’s the S&M man.
Who takes jumper cables,
Clamps one on each tit,
Starts up the car,
And electrocutes the bitch?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a young girl,
Turn the lights down low,
Flip on the video camera,
And make like Rob Lowe?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a vagina,
Suck out all the yeast,
Spit it out into some dough,
And serve bread at the hash feast?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a puppy,
Hold it by the ears,
Fuck it in the ass,
Until it sheds those puppy tears?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a vice clamp,
Clamp it on a tit,
Squeeze the sucker down
Till it pops just like a zit?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a cheese grater,
Strap it to his arm,
Fist fuck the bitch
And make Vagina Parmesan?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a transient,
Rip out one of his eyes,
Skull fuck the bastard
While he listens to his cries?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take some shackles,
Chain you to the walls,
Fill a glass with sperm,
By lancing both your balls?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a Coke bottle,
Shove it up her ass,
Kidney punch the bitch,
Until she’s shitting blood and glass?
It’s the S&M man.
SPECIAL CHORUS:
Oh the S&M man,
The S&M man makes all that he partakes,
Satisfying and delicious,
Fulfills all your erotic wishes,
Sucks chrome off trailer hitches.
Who would use machinery,
To masturbate at work,
Rip off his left testis,
And pretend it didn’t hurt?
It’s the S&M man.
SONG ENDERS:
Who can take a baby,
Lay it on a bed,
Turn the bugger over,
Fuck the soft spot in its head?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a little girl,
Before she’s on the rag,
Fuck her till she’s dead
And then toss her in a bag?
It’s the S&M man.
Who would put a kid’s hand,
In a socket on the wall?
It’s nice when they jerk,
Up against his balls.
It’s the S&M man.
Who goes to the abortion clinic,
Sneaks around the back,
Digs through the dumpster,
Until he finds a tasty snack?
It’s the S&M man.
Who gives children candy,
Takes them round the block,
And rips up their innards,
With the ramming of his cock?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a baby,
Throw it on a pile,
And fuck it up its ass,
Shis-ka-bob style?
It’s the S&M man.
Who would take your kiddies,
Out to a picnic binge,
Put them on the fire,
And watch the fuckers singe?
It’s the S&M man.
Who can take a pregnant woman,
Fuck her till she’s dead,
Leave his dick inside her,
Till the foetus gives him head?
It’s the S&M man.
THE S & M GIRL (variation on S & M Man)
Who takes jumper cables,
Attaches ’em to her tits,
Connects them to a Mack truck,
And has orgasmic fits?
It’s the S&M girl.
CHORUS:
Oh, the S&M girl,
The S&M girl because she mixes it with love,
And makes the hurt feel good (the hurt feel good).
Who can jump a flagpole,
Land right up on top,
Wiggle down and squeeze so tight,
The ball on top pops?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who can take a buzz saw,
Hold it to her twat,
Rev up the engine,
And perpetually squat?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who sleeps on barbed wire,
Tossing left and right,
Just to see how many stitches,
She can earn each night?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who can shave her body,
Pubic parts and all,
Swim around all day,
In a pool of alcohol?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who rubs down with honey,
Just to have a chance,
To lay out on the lawn,
And be a picnic for the ants?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who ties down her sweetie,
Every single day,
Covers him with rats,
And lets the kitties in to play?
It’s the S&M girl.
Who can take a big knife,
And cause him lots of pain,
And then get off in court,
When she claims that she’s insane?
Lorenna Bobbit can.
——————————————————————————–
SMOKING WIENER’S COCKY HASH SONGS
Anticipation
Away Ye Hash Mongers
Ballad of the Hash Today
Cunt, the Magic Pussy
Do My Butt
Down on Your Knees
Dress You Up
Drink Around the Clock Tonight
Going Without Is Hard to Do
Hang a Bunch of Condoms From the Ole Oak Tree
Hash, Hash, Hash
Hash Moon Rising
Hash the Night Away
Hasher
Hasher DogMan
Hashers In Your Neighborhood
Hashers We Have Heard Are High
Hashes In The Sun
Hashin’ By the Dock of the Bay
Hashing In the Moonlight
Hashing In the Moonlight
Hot Box
I Am Woman
I Don’t Know How to Lust Him
I Love Hash
I Love You
I Think the Beer’s Gone Now
I Want To Hold Your Gland
I’m Getting Married In the Morning
In Honor of Just Jackie
Joy to the World
Lady Madonna
Man In a Troubled Marriage
Masturbation
Mighty Fine
Oh! Susanna
On His Bone Again
On Top of Old Smoky
Racked with Pain
Rocket Man
Roll Out the Barrel
Saturday In the Park
Serenity Prayer
Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
Smokey Smoking Wiener
Smoking Wiener
South Huntsville
Speed Hasher
Stroking Me Softly With His Dong
Superstar
Take Me Home, Country Roads
Tennessee Valley Sunday
The Dress My Father Wore
The Morning After
The Rain, the Park and Other Things
There’s a Kind of Hash
They’ve Got the World Cup In Their Hands
Time and Hash Trail Passages
We’re a Couple of Hashshits
Where Has All the Flour Gone
Who’ll Stop the Rain
Why Do Drunks Suddenly Appear
You’re a Grand Old Fag
Editor’s Note: All songs in this section are by Smoking Wiener of the Rocket Shitty HHH (Huntsville, Alabama).
ANTICIPATION
Melody – Anticipation (Carly Simon)
We can never know about the ways to cum
But we think about them anyway
And I wonder if I’m toying with you now
Or just chasing after some finer play.
Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me quake
Is keeping me mating
And I tell you how easy it is to be with you
And how right your lips feel around me.
Bit I rehearsed those words just late last night
When I was drinking, knowing how fun tonight might be.
Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me quake
Is keeping me mating
And tomorrow we might not cum together
I’m no prophet, I don’t know natures way
So I’ll try to sneak between your thighs right now
And stay right here, ’cause these are the good old days.
AWAY YE HASH MONGERS
Melody – Away In A Manger
Away ye hash mongers, no time for some head,
The little hare Hare’s name ran down a creek bed.
The moon in the sky looked down where flour lay,
The little hare Hare’s name headed that way.
The whistles are blowing, the whiner awakes,
But little hare Hare’s name no bad trail he makes.
I love Thee, hare ______, Come down from your high,
And stay by our circle til morning is nigh.
Be near me, hare ______, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, and play.
Bless all the dear hashers in thy tender care,
And take us to interhash, to hash with Thee there.
BALLAD OF THE HASH TODAY
Melody – Ballad of the Green Berets
Horny hashers with open fly
Drunken men who run and lie
Men who don’t mean what they say
These crazed men, will hash today
CHORUS:
Whistle lanyards upon their chest
These are drinkers, America’s best
One hundred men will hash today
But only three will find the way
Trained to run on nature’s land
Trained in party, beer-in-hand
Men who drink by night and day
Hashing fools on the trail today
Back at home a young wife waits
Her hasher has stayed out late
He has run with those oppressed
Leaving her his last request
“Put whistled lanyard on my son
Make him one of America’s best
He was born to run and play
Have him lay hash trail someday.”
CUNT, THE MAGIC PUSSY
Melody – Puff, The Magic Dragon
Cunt, the magic pussy lived to be free
And cocklicked in the shiggy mist in a land called Fuck-Me
Little Robby Rubber, he loved that rascal Cunt
And he brought her ropes and real hot wax and other kinky stuff
CHORUS:
O Cunt, the magic pussy lived by the sea
And cocklicked in the shiggy mist in a land called Fuck-Me
Cunt, the magic pussy lived by the sea
And cocklicked in the shiggy mist in a land called Fuck-Me
Oh and together they would do it on a boat with billowed sail
And Cunt she kept a lookout perched on Robby’s giant tail
Noble hares and harriettes would bow whene’er they came
Pirate ships would lower their pants when Cunt called out their name
A pussy lasts forever but not so little boys
Kinky things and gold cock rings make way for other joys
One grey night it happened, Robby rubber came no more
And Cunt that mighty pussy, she ceased her fearless roar
Robby’s cock was bent in sorrow, pre-cum fell like rain
Cunt no longer went to play along the cherry lane
Without her life-long friend Cunt could not be brave
So Cunt that mighty pussy gladly slipped it in her cave
Oh, Cunt the magic pussy LIVES by the sea (present tense!)
And cocklicks in the shiggy mist in a land called Fuck-Me
Oh, Cunt the magic pussy LIVES by the sea
And cocklicks in the shiggy mist in a land called Fuck-Me
DO MY BUTT
Melody – William Tell Overture
Do my butt, do my butt, do my butt butt butt,
Do my butt, do my butt, do my butt butt butt,
Do my butt, do my butt, do my butt butt butt,
Do my butt, do my butt butt butt.
DOWN ON YOUR KNEES
Melody – Down in the Valley
Down on your knees, your knees so low
Hang your head over, feel your lips blow
Feel your lips blow, dear, feel your lips blow
Hang your head over, feel your lips blow
Writing this letter, cumming three times
Answer my question, will you blow mine?
Will you blow mine, dear, will you blow mine?
Answer my question, will you blow mine?
Write me a letter, send it by mail
Send it in care of the Birmingham jail,
Birmingham jail, dear, Birmingham jail
Send it in care of the Birmingham jail
Hashers love sunshine, Hashers love dew
Hashers in Heaven know I love to screw
I love to screw, dear, I love to screw
Hashers in Heaven Know I love to screw
DRESS YOU UP
Melody – Dress You Up (Madonna)
You’ve got style
That’s what all the hares say
Satin sheets
And titties so fine
All your suits are custom made in London
I know somehow that you’re really a dike
Gonna dress you up in my dress
All over, all over
Gonna dress you up in my dress
All over your body
Feel the silky touch of my red dresses
They will keep you looking ready to screw
Let me cover you with Golden Tresses
I’ll create a look that’s made for you
Gonna dress you up in my dress
In my dress
All over your body
All over your body
In my dress
All over, all over
From your head down to your toes
DRINK AROUND THE CLOCK TONIGHT
Melody – Rock Around the Clock Tonight
Put your hash rags on and join me, hon,
We’ll have some fun when the clock strikes one,
We’re gonna drink around the clock tonight,
We’re gonna drink, drink,drink, ’til broad daylight.
We’re gonna drink, gonna drink, around the clock tonight
So drink it down, down, down . . .
GOING WITHOUT IS HARD TO DO
Melody – Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (Neil Sedaka)
Don’t take your toys away from me
Don’t you leave my balls in misery
If you go then I’ll be blue
‘Cause going without is hard to do
Remember when you held it tight
And you kissed it all through the night
Think of all that we’ve been through
Going without Is Hard To Do
They say that going without is hard to do
Now I know, I know that it’s true
Don’t say that this is the end
Instead of going without I wish that we were making out again
I beg of you, don’t say goodbye
Can’t we give our lust another try
Come on baby, let’s start a new
‘Cause going without is hard to do
HANG A BUNCH OF CONDOMS FROM THE OLE OAK TREE
Melody – Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree (Tony Orlando)
Whoa, hang a bunch of condoms from the ole oak tree
It’s been three long years
Do ya still want me? (still want me)
If I don’t see a bunch of condoms on the ole oak tree
I’ll stay on the bus
Forget about us
Put the blame on me
If I don’t see a bunch of condoms on the ole oak tree
HASH, HASH, HASH
Melody – Dance, Dance, Dance (Steve Miller)
My grandpa, he’s ninety five
And he keeps on hashin’, he’s still alive
My grandma, she’s ninety two
She loves to hash and sing lewd too
I don’t know but I’ve been told
If you keep on hashing you’ll never grow old
CHORUS:
Come on, daddy’, put a red dress on
We’re gonna go out tonight
Hash, hash, hash
Hash, hash, hash
Hash, hash, hash, all night long
I’m a hard-workin’ man, I’m a son of a bitch
I’ve been hashin’ all week and I’ve got an itch
The whore’s in the kitchen and my manhood’s in the barn
I’m all cleaned up and my whores are all done
Gimme your hand and make me come
Then let’s go out and get us some
Come on, hasher’, don’t look that way
Don’t you know when you smile I’ve got to say
You’re my honey pumping lover, you’re my heart’s delight
Don’t you want to get laid tonight
You’re such a pretty lady, you’re such a sweet man
When you dance it hardens up my thang
HASH MOON RISING
Melody – Bad Moon Rising (J.C. Fogerty)
I see the hash moon arising.
I see hashers on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightnin’.
I see bad trails today.
CHORUS:
Don’t run around tonight,
Well, it’s bound to make for strife,
There’s a hash moon on the rise.
I hear the pack a’whistling
I know the circles coming soon.
I fear down-downs over flowing.
I hear the voice of rage and ruin.
Hope you got your shit together.
Hope you are quite prepared to die.
Looks like we’re in for nasty weather.
(Insert Hash Name) is laying trail tonight.
HASH THE NIGHT AWAY
Melody – After All These Years (Elton John)
Hashin’, hashin’
Hash the night away, hash the night away
One thirty, two thirty
Hashin’ my life away
How could we still be hashin’
After all these beers
How could we still be running
After all these years
How could we still be friendly
After slamming those beers
How could we still be living
After all those cheers
Hey everybody, help to make this circle right
Oh won’t you help to make this circle right
How could we still be hashing
After all those times
How could we still be drinking
And still be singing rhymes
How could we still make music
after MTV
How can we get things cranking
And see what we can be
How could we tell the difference
Between right and wrong
Hashing running for so long
But now we’ve found our song
Hey everybody
Hey everybody
HASHER
Melody – Roxanne (The Police)
Hasher
You have to put on the red dress
This hash isn’t over
You still have to dance and party into the night
Hasher
You have to wear that red dress tonight
Walk the streets for beer money
I don’t care if it’s too short or if it’s tight.
Hasher
You have to put on the red dress
I loved you since I knew you
I would really love to screw you
I have to tell you just how I feel
I know your not just another boy
I know my mind is made up
So put away your make up
Told you once I won’t tell you again
I’m in a bad way
Hasher
You have to put on the red dress
Hasher
You have to put on the red dress
HASHER DOGMAN
Melody – Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
– Written for Dogman’s six-month anniversary of being hit by a car while bicycling home. Affectionately, the hash was titled “Gimp Limp”
The legend lives on from Monte Sano on down
Of the big town they called Rocket Shitty
The streets, it is said, never give up their dead
When the skies of December turn gloomy
With a load of iron several thousand tons more
Than the Hasher Dogman weighed empty.
That good hasher and true was a bone to be chewed
When the rains of December came early.
His Bike was the pride of the Spring City side
Coming back from some sight on the Ars’nal
As Knight bikes go, it was faster than most
With a rider a hasher well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of contractor firms
When he left early headed for Home
And later that night when the cars horn did sound
Could it be the north wind he’d been feelin’?
The rain in the spokes made a tattle-tale sound
And a car broke over the shoulder
And every man knew, as the hasher did too,
T’was the witch of December come stealin’.
The ascent came late and the rain couldn’t wait
When the Rains of December came slashin’.
When dusk came it was a freezin’ rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When the time came, the Ford Driver road on a-sayin’.
Bikers, it’s too rainy to see ya.
At Five P.M. a main rainstorm started in, he said
Fellas, it’s been good t’know ya
The hasher saw he had an Escort coming in
And the good rider and hasher was in peril.
And later that night when his lights were knocked outta sight
Came the wreck of the Hasher Dogman.
Does any one know where the lost shoe had gone
When the waves turned the minutes to hours?
The police reports all say He’d have made Clinton Street
If He’d put start five minutes earlier.
He’s pretty split up and his bike it’s a wreck;
May have broken his leg and took quite a beating.
And all that remains is the braces and screws
In the leg of the old hashing bastard
Bob Wallace rolls, Rocket Shitty sings
In the gloom of his beaten down cycle.
The Dogman steams with a young hasher’s dreams;
The trails and bikelanes are for hashers.
And farther below Huntsville Hospital row
Takes in what Bob Wallace can send her,
And the iron cars go as the bikers all know
With the Rains of December remembered.
In an old Chapel on Green Mountain they prayed,
In the Hashers favorite setting.
The church bell chimed till it rang sixteen times
For each screw in the Tibia and Fibula.
The legend lives on from Monte Sano on down
Of the big street they call Bob Wallace’.
Wallace, they said, never gives up her dead
When the Rains of December come early!
THE HASHERS IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD
Melody – The People In Your Neighborhood (Sesame Street)
Oh, who are the Hashers in your neighborhood,
In your neighborhood, in your neighborhood.
Say who are the hashers in your neighborhood–
The people that you see each day?
Oh, the hare always runs like a snail
Through rain or snow or sleet or hail.
They’ll run, and run the whole day through
To lay a shiggy trail for you.
Cause a hare is a person in your neighborhood,
In your neighborhood, he’s in your neighborhood.
A hasher is a person in your neighborhood–
A person that you see each day.
Oh, an R A is brave it’s said.
His Rod, it’s a shiny red.
If there’s a horny bitch about.
Well, He’ll be sure to whip it out!
Cause a hare is a person in your neighborhood,
In your neighborhood, he’s in your neighborhood.
And an R A is a person in your neighborhood–
Well they’re the hashers that you meet
When you’re running down the street
They’re the hashers that you meet each day!
Oh, DogMan is a hasher too.
He’d much rather run than screw.
Always throwing flower down.
Wearing nothing but a frown!
Cause a hare is a person in your neighborhood,
In your neighborhood, he’s in your neighborhood.
And an R A is a person in your neighborhood–
And DogMan is a person in your neighborhood–
Well they’re the hashers that you meet
When you’re running down the street
They’re the hashers that you meet each day!
Oh, BB likes to lay out trail.
As you watch her sweet titties flail.
She’d tell you that she’d rather fence,
But she’s truly just a hashing wench!
Oh, Shortcut
Has a cute little butt.
But she’s really such a raving slut.
That I’d rather shag a mangy mutt!
Oh, Prickless is a college Prof
And she’d really like to get us off
But there’s only one fact that’s true
She doesn’t give a Dick ’bout you.
HASHERS WE HAVE HEARD ARE HIGH
Melody – Angels We Have Heard On High
Hashers we Have Heard are High ,
Sweetly running o’er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their aches and pains. Gloria…
CHORUS:
Gloria, In a drunken stupor
RA, why this jubilee,
Why your joyous strains prolong
What the gladsome tidings be,
Which inspire your down-down song?
Come out to our hash and see,
Him whose trail the angels claim
Much much much too long for me,
DogMan, Lord of hashing fame.
See him under, table laid,
Whom the choirs of hashers praise
HeBlows, Fluffy, lend your aid,
While our mugs in love we raise.
HASHES IN THE SUN
Melody – Seasons in the Sun
Goodbye to you my hashing friend
We’ve known each other since we acted nine or ten
Together we hashed hills and creeks
Learned of Huntsville and the ABC’s
Scraped our shins and skinned our knees.
Goodbye my friend it’s hard to stay dry
When all the hares are drinking on the sly
Now that the spring is in the air
Tasty beer is everywhere
Pour one for me and I’ll be there
We had joy we had fun
We went hashing in the sun
But the hills that we climb were all shiggy
Most the time.
We had joy we had fun
We went hashing in the sun
But the wine and the beer like the seasons
Have all gone.
Goodbye Wet Spot please pray for me
You are the black sheep of rocket shitty
You tried to teach me to do wrong
Too much wine and too much song
Wonder how we got along.
Goodbye Wet Spot its hard to stay dry
When all the hares are drinking on the sly
Now that the spring is in the air
Drunken hashers everywhere
When you see them I’ll be there.
Goodbye Wet Spot my little one
You gave me laughs and helped me find some fun
And every time that I was drinking down
You would always clown around
And get Stray Dog off on the ground.
Goodbye Wet Spot it’s hard to stay dry
When all the hares are drinking on the sly
Now that the spring is in the air
With new virgins everywhere
I wish that we could both be there
All this year we had fun
We went hashing in the sun
But the bars we could reach
Sadly weren’t on the beach.
HASHIN’ BY THE DOCK OF THE BAY
Melody Sittin By the Dock Of The Bay (Otis Redding)
Hashin’ in the mornin’ sun
I’ll be hashin’ when the evenin’ come
Watching the drunks run in
And then I watch ’em run away again, yeah
I’m hashin’ by the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I’m just hashin’ by the dock of the bay
Wastin’ time
I left my home in Huntsville
Headed for the Thiokol bay
‘Cause I’ve had nothing to live for
And look like nothin’s gonna come my way
So I’m just gonna run by the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I’m hashin’ by the dock of the bay
Wastin’ time
Look like nothing’s gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can’t do what the shrink tells me to
So I guess I’ll remain insane, yes
Sittin here resting my bones
And this Hangover won’t leave me alone
It’s ‘bout ten miles I roamed
Just to find the on-on home
Now, I’m just gonna run by the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Oooo-wee, hashin’ by the dock of the bay
Wastin’ time
(whistle)
HASHING IN THE MOONLIGHT – VERSION I
Melody – Dancin’ In the Moonlight (Harvest King)
We get some almost every night
When that ol’ moon gets-a big and bright
It’s a heterosexual delight (or, It’s a drinker’s delight)
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody here is out of sight
They have a lark, and they’re not uptight
They keep things loose, they keep things light
Everybody was hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody’s feelin’ cool and right
It’s such a fine and natural sight
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
We like our fun and we never fight
You can’t hash and stay uptight
It’s a heterosexual delight
Everybody was hashin’ in the moonlight
HASHING IN THE MOONLIGHT – VERSION II
Melody – Dancin’ In the Moonlight (Harvest King)
We get some almost every night
When that ol’ moon gets-a big and bright
It’s a supernatural delight
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody here is getting tight
The dogs bark, but they don’t bite
They keep things loose, they keep things light
Everybody was hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
Everybody’s feelin’ warm and right
It’s such a fine and unnatural sight
Everybody’s hashin’ in the moonlight
We like our fun and we never fight
You can’t dance and stay uptight
It’s a supernatural delight
Everybody was hashin’ in the moonlight
HOT BOX
Melody – Squeeze Box (The Who)
Mama’s got a hot box
She sports a big chest
And when Daddy comes home
He never gets no rest
‘Cause she’s fucking all night
And her Pussy’s real tight
Mama’s got a hot box
Daddy never sleeps at night
Well Mama likes Dad’s meat
And Daddy can’t sleep
There’s no escape from the sounds
In the whole damn street
‘Cause she’s fucking all night
And her Pussy’s real tight
Mama’s got a hot box
Daddy never sleeps at night
She goes in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out
She’s fucking all night
And her Pussy’s real tight
Mama’s got a hot box
Daddy never sleeps at night
She goes, please me, come on and please me
Come on and tease me like you do
I’m so in love with you
Mama’s got a hot box
Daddy never sleeps at night
She goes in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out
‘Cause she’s fucking all night
And her Pussy’s real tight
Mama’s got a hot box
Daddy never sleeps at night
I AM WOMAN
Melody – I Am Woman (Helen Reddy)
I am hasher, hear me roar
In dresses too red to ignore
And I’ve drank too much to say it’s all pretend
’cause I’ve done it once before
And I’ve done down downs by the score
No one’s ever gonna wear this dress again
CHORUS:
Oh yes I am wise
But it’s wisdom free from shame
Yes, I’ve paid the price
But look at my great frame
If I want to, I can wear anything
A have a thong (thong)
I have mammaries (mammaries)
I am woman
You can bend but never take me
’cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my drinking goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a harlot any longer
’cause you’ve deepened the conviction in my hole
I am hasher watch me run
See me drinking, having fun
As I spread my lovin’ hash across the land
But I’m still an embryo
With a long long way to go
Until I make the others understand
Oh yes I am wise
But it’s wisdom free from shame
Yes, I’ve paid the price
But look at my great frame
If I want to, I can wear anything
A have a thong (thong)
I have mammaries (mammaries)
Oh, I am woman
A have a thong
I have mammaries
Fade
I am woman
I have a thong
I have mammaries
I am woman
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LUST HIM
Melody – I Don’t Know How to Love Him (Jesus Chris Superstar)
(Mary Magdalene)
I don’t know how to catch him
What to do, how to find him
I’ve been lost, yes really lost
In these past few checks
When I’ve seen the trail
I don’t see anyone else
I don’t know how to take this
I don’t see why he loses me
He’s a hare
He’s just a hare
And I’ve had so many
Hares before
In very many ways
He’s just one more
Should I track him down
Should I scream and shout
Should I speak of lust
Let my feelings out?
I never thought I’d cum today
What’s it all about?
Don’t you think it’s rather funny
I should be in this position?
I’m the one
Who’s always been
So calm so cool
No hasher’s fool
Running very slow
He scares me so
I never thought I’d come today
What’s it all about?
Yet
If he said he lusted me
I’d be lost
I’d be frightened
I couldn’t grope
Just couldn’t grope
I’d give him head
Then back away
I wouldn’t want to know
He scares me so
I want him so
I lust him so
I LOVE HASH
Melody – I Love Trash (Sesame Street)
Oh, I love hash!
Anything dirty or shiggy or musty.
Any trail ragged or hilly or dusty.
Yes, I love hash.
I have here a sneaker that’s tattered and worn.
It’s all full of shiggy and the laces are torn…
A gift from Grand Master the day I was born.
I love it because I hash.
Oh, I love hash!
Anything dirty or shiggy or musty.
Any trail ragged or hilly or dusty.
Yes, I love hash.
I have here a global trash thirteen months old.
I’ve wrapped some fish inside it, it’s smelly and old.
But I wouldn’t trade it for a big pot o’ gold!
I love it because I hash
Oh, I love hash!
Anything dirty or shiggy or musty.
Any trail ragged or hilly or dusty.
Yes, I love hash.
I’ve a watch that won’t work,
And an old megaphone.
A broken old rubber, a long hard hot bone…
And I am delighted to call them my own!
I love them because I hash
Oh, I love hash!
Anything dirty or shiggy or musty.
Any trail ragged or hilly or dusty.
Yes, I love, I love, I love them because I hash!
I LOVE YOU
Melody – I Love You (Barney the Dinosaur)
I love you!
You love me!
We’ll go hashing, wait and see!
With a great big mug!
And a beer from me to you!
First we’ll down down, then we’ll screw!
I THINK THE BEER’S GONE NOW
Melody – I Think We’re Alone Now
Hashers behave
That’s what they say when we hash together
And watch how you play
They don’t understand and so we’re…
CHORUS:
Running just as fast as we can
Following a different band
Trying to get away into the night and then we hit some shiggy
and we tumble to the ground and then I say…
Give Me A Blow Now
There doesn’t seem to be anyone around
Give Me A Blow Now
The beating of our hearts is the only sound
We sure don’t have to hide what we’re doin’
Just because we’ve been screwing and so we’re…
I Think The Beers Gone Now
There doesn’t seem to be any more around
I Think The Beers Gone Now
I can’t really afford another round
I WANT TO HOLD YOUR GLAND
Melody – I Want to Hold Your Hand
Oh yeah I tell you somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I see that somethin’
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
Oh please say to me
You’ll let me use my hand
And please say to me
You’ll let me hold your gland
Now, let me hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
And when I touch you
I want you inside
It’s such a feelin’ that my love
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
Yeah, you got that somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I see that somethin’
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
And when I touch you
I want you inside
It’s such a feelin’ that my love
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
I can’t hide
Yeah, you got that somethin’
I think you’ll understand
When I feel that somethin’
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
I want to hold your gland
I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING
Melody – Same
Stray Dog’s getting married in the morning,
Ding-dong his balls are going to chime,
Pull out her stopper,
He claims to have a whopper,
But get him to the church on time.
He’s got to be there in the morning,
Spruced up and his cock all primed,
Girls come and kiss him,
Show how you’ll miss him,
But get him to the church on time.
If he is straying,
Give him a laying,
If she is moo-ing,
Send her a shoo-ing!
Oh, Stray Dog’s getting married in the morning,
Ding-dong his balls are going to chime,
Kick up a rumpus,
But don’t lose the compass
And get him to the church,
Get him to the church,
For G’s sake,
Get him to the church, on time.
IN HONOR OF JUST JACKIE
Melody – Go Tell it on the Mountain.
– Just Jackie took a spill of about 10 feet into a concrete ditch during her naming hash. She went on-in via ambulance and spent the night in the hospital. Needless to say, her naming was postponed. She is now affectionately known as Ditch Bitch
When I was a hasher
I hashed both night and day,
I asked the Hare to help me,
And he showed me the way.
CHORUS:
Go run around the City,
Over the hills and everywhere,
Go run around the City,
Just Jackie’s name is born.
He made me a lame one
Fell from a city wall,
And if I’m a named Hasher,
I’m the best damned named of all.
Go run around the City,
Over the hills and everywhere,
Go run around the City,
Just Jackie’s name is born
JOY TO THE WORLD
Melody – Same
Joy to the world! the Hare is come;
Let the hash receive the Jerk;
Let every harriette prepare their Womb,
And hares and hashers sing,
And hares and hashers sing,
And hares, and hares and hashers sing.
Joy to the earth! the SongMaster reigns;
The hash their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the raucous joy,
Repeat the raucous joy,
Repeat, repeat the raucous joy.
So let more vines and briars grow,
And thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His flour flow
Far as the trail is found,
Far as the trail is found,
Far as, far as the trail is found.
The RA rules the hash with whip and mace,
And makes the hashers grovel
With down downs to His righteousness,
And wonder if He’s just,
And wonder if He’s just,
And wonder, wonder if He’s Just.
LADY MADONNA
Melody – Same
Lady Madonna, five children at your feet.
Wonder how you manage to make ends meet.
Who finds the money? When you pay the cash?
Did you think that money wasn’t for the hash ?
Friday night arrives without a hash trail.
Sunday morning creeps in like the sun.
Monday’s hare has learned to lay true trail.
See how they run.
Lady Madonna, hasher at your breast.
Wonder how you manage to appease the rest.
See how they run.
Lady Madonna, lying on the trail,
Listening to the music as others follow trail.
The hash trail is never ending. (Or, “HeBlows trail is never ending”)
Wednesday morning hash trash didn’t come.
Thursday night your sport bra needed mending.
See how they run.
Lady Madonna, hasher at your breast.
Wonder how you manage to appease the rest.
MAN IN A TROUBLED MARRIAGE
Melody – Bridge Over Troubled Water
When you’re weary, feelin’ small,
When tears are in your eyes,
I’ll dry them all, I’m by your side.
Oh, when trails get rough.
And friends just can’t be found,
Like A Man in a Troubled Marriage,
I will screw around,
Like a Man in a Troubled Marriage,
I will screw around.
When you’re down and out, and kicked out on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you,
I’ll steal your heart.
Oh, when darkness comes,
And pain is all around,
Like A Man in a Troubled Marriage,
I will screw around,
Like a Man in a Troubled Marriage,
I will screw around.
Sail on Silver girl, sail on by.
Your time has come to shine,
And your divorce is on it’s way,
See how you shine.
Oh, if you need some love
I’m sailing right behind, (I’ll take you from behind)
Like A Man in a Troubled Marriage
I will screw around,
Like a Man in a troubled Marriage,
I will screw around.
MASTURBATION
Melody – Alouette
(Song to a male)
Masturbation, He Loves masturbation
Masturbation, I’ts what he loves to do
First He’ll use his right hand
Then He’ll use his left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Masturbation, I’ts what he’d rather do.
So drink it down down down down……
(Song to a female)
Masturbation, we Love masturbation
Masturbation, I’ts what we love to do
First We’ll use our right hand
Then We’ll use our left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Right hand
Left hand
Masturbation, While thinking about you.
So drink it down down down down……
MIGHTY FINE
Melody – Jody Call (marching chant)
The hash trails that they lay here, they say are mighty fine,
They told us it was 5 miles, it seemed like twenty-nine.
CHORUS:
Oh, I don’t want no more of Hashing Life..
Gee, Hare, I want to go, but they won’t let me go;
Gee, Hare, I want to go on-in
The hares that they have here, they say are mighty fine,
But when you get up close to them, they empty your beer stein.
The girls in Rocket Shitty Hash, they say are mighty fine,
You ask them for a BlowJob, they demand a 69.
The beer that they have here, they say is mighty fine,
They fill you up on Dirt Cheap, at Six dollars, Ninety-nine.
The hash food that they serve you, they say is mighty fine
When Whining Bitch tasted it, he began to Whine.
The pasta that they serve you, they say is mighty fine
They rinse it the toilet and drain it on the line.
The down-downs they reward you, they say are mighty fine
It’s good for cuts and bruises and tastes like iodine.
The women that we cum with, they say are mighty fine
But whoever said this has never cum with mine.
The songs that they sing here are the best that they can get
Smoking Wiener wrote a new verse, it’s the filthiest one yet.
OH! SUSANNA
Melody – Same
I come from Alabama with my shlong down past my knee,
I’m go-in to a Hashing , my true love for to see.
I stroked all night the day I left, my pecker it was dry
My cum so hot You’ll freeze to death, Susanna, don’t you cry.
CHORUS:
Oh! Susanna, Oh won’t you cum with me,
For I come from Alabama with my shlong down past my knee.
I had a dream the other night, when everything was still;
I thought I saw Susanna dear, a cumming on the hill.
My long hard snake was in her mouth, some cum was in her eye,
Says I, I’m coming in your mouth, Susanna, don’t you cry.
I soon will be in New Orleans, and then I’ll fool around,
And when I find Susanna, I’ll fuck her on the ground.
But if I do not find her, then I will surely die,
And when my cock is buried, Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry.
ON HIS BONE AGAIN
Melody – On the Road Again (Willy Nelson)
On his bone again, I just can’t wait to get on his bone again,
The sex I love is makin’ lovin with my friend,
And I can’t wait to get on his bone again.
On his bone again, cummin’ harder than I’ve never been,
Doin’ things that I may never do again,
And I can’t wait to get on his bone again.
CHORUS:
On his gland again, like a rock band groupie I go down on him that way.
We’re the best of friends,
Insisting that the world be screwin’ our way,
And our way, is on is on the floor again,
Just can’t wait to get on his bone again.
The sex I love is makin’ lovin with my friend,
And I can’t wait to get on his bone again.
(repeat last line twice)
ON TOP OF OLD SMOKY
Melody – Same
(this part to be sung by harriettes)
On top of old Smoky, his manhood aglow,
I lost Smoking Wiener from stroking too slow.
Now, fucking is pleasure and cumming is brief,
And a false-hearted hasher is worse than a thief.
For a hasher will fuck you and drink what you brought,
But a false-hearted hasher will leave you with naught
And the grave will decay you and turn cunts to dust;
One Wiener in a hundred a poor girl can lust.
(this part to be sung by harriers)
They’ll blow you and kiss you and tell you more lies,
Than blowjobs on a hash run or stars in the skies.
So, come all you young maidens and try to mount me,
Never place your privates round a green willow tree.
For the leaves they will whither, and the roots they will die,
You’ll all get infections and never know why.
RACKED WITH PAIN
Melody – King of Pain (The Police)
There’s a little shiggy spot on the run today
It’s the same old shiggy as yesterday
There’s a fluffy pussy caught in a high tree top
There’s a female check and Whining Bitch won’t stop
I have stood here before outside in pouring rain
With the long hash circles running ’round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that I won’t get a sprain
But it’s my destiny to be racked with pain
There’s a little shiggy spot on the run today
That’s a down down there
It’s the same old shiggy as yesterday
There’s a down down there
There’s a fluffy pussy caught in a high tree top
That’s a down down there
There’s a female check and Whining Bitch won’t stop
That’s a down down there
I have stood here before outside in pouring rain
With the long hash circles running ’round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that I won’t get a sprain
But it’s my destiny to be racked with pain
There’s a Keg that’s tapped on a high cliff wall
There’s a circle there
There’s another one cooling in a waterfall
There’s a circle there
There’s a hasher laying spinning in his bed
There’s a circle there
There’s another one getting a little HEAD
There’s a circle there
I have stood here before outside in pouring rain
With the long hash circles running ’round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that I won’t get a sprain
But it’s my destiny to be racked with pain
There’s a hasher on a throne puking his dinner up
There’s another one doing an up-up-up
There’s a Dogman sleeping underneath a bed
There’s a harriette choking, giving someone HEAD
Racked with pain
There’s some hash thrown down for the chasing pack
There’s some shiggy there
There’s Salty Balls holding a scrotum sack
There’s some shiggy there
There’s a little shiggy spot on the run today
It’s the same old shiggy as yesterday
I have stood here before outside in pouring rain
With the long hash circles running ’round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that I won’t get a sprain
But it’s my destiny to be racked with pain
Racked with pain
Racked with pain
Racked with pain
I’ll always be racked with pain
ROCKET MAN
Melody – Rocket Man (Elton John)
Packed my flour bag last night
Pre-flight,
Zero hour, 3:00 p.m.
And I’m gonna be high as a kite by then.
I miss the earth so much,
I miss my wife.
It’s lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight.
And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
Till down downs bring me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home.
Oh, no, no, no,
I’m a rocket man,
Rocket man throwing out his flour on-out alone.
Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your mugs,
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no hash there to raise them if you did.
And all this science,
I don’t understand.
It’s just my job, five days a week,
A Rocket man.
ROLL OUT THE BARREL
Melody – Beer Barrel Polka
Roll out the barrel, The hashers have finished their run. Roll out the barrel, It’s time to drink and have fun. Zing! Boom! Ta-ra-rel! Sing out a song of lewd cheer! Now’s the time to roll the barrel, For the gang’s all here.
SATURDAY IN THE PARK
Melody – Saturday In the Park (Chicago)
Saturday in the park
I wish it was the Fourth of July
Saturday in the park
I wish it was the Fourth of July
People running, people hashing
A hare throwing flour
Singing bawdy songs
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For Saturday
Saturday in the park
You’d wish it was the Fourth of July
Saturday in the park
You’d wish it was the Fourth of July
People shiverin, really freezin
A hare laying true trail
Running from us all
Will you help him lay the trail
Can you lay it (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For today
Slow drunken runners fly the colours of the day
A drunk man still can lay trail his own way
Listen children you are not lost
All are not lost
Freezing days in the park
Every day’s the Fourth of July
Freezing days in the park
Every day’s the Fourth of July
Hashers drinking, hashers groping
A real celebration
Waiting for us all
If we want it, really want it
Can you down down (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For the day
THE SERENITY PRAYER
GOD, grant me the serenity
to accept the things
I cannot change,
Courage to change the
things I can, and a
half-mind to know the difference.
Living ONE RUN AT A TIME;
enjoying one trail at a time;
Accepting hardship as the
pathway through shiggy.
Running, as the hare did, this
sinful route as it is,
not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make
all checks right if I
surrender to His markings;
That I may be reasonably happy
in this pack, and supremely
happy with Hashing forever in
the next. On-On
SEWAGE PIPE OVER OPEN WATER
Melody – Bridge Over Troubled Water
When you’re weary, feelin’ sore,
When sweat is in your eyes,
I’ll give you beer, I’m on your side.
Oh, when the shiggy gets rough.
And true trail just can’t be found,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross,
When you’re at the on-out, when you’re on true trail,
When ever I get so hard
I will come for you,
I’ll take your pants.
Oh, when the down-downs come,
And beer is all around,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross,
Shag on Hashing girl, shag on me.
Your time has come to swallow,
All your beer is on its way,
See how it foams.
Oh, if you need a friend
I’m shagging your behind,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross,
Like A Sewage Pipe Over Troubled Water
I will make you cross.
SMOKEY SMOKING WIENER
Melody – Oh I Wish I Were an Oscar Meyer Wiener
Oh, I Wish I Were a smokey smoking Wiener,
That is what I’d really like to be-e-ee,
‘Cause if I were a smokey Smoking Wiener,
You’d like a wiener plug your cunt with me!
Oh, I Wish I Were a smokey Smoking Wiener,
That is what I’d really like to be-e-ee,
‘Cause just like an Oscar Meyer Wiener,
Everyone would love to swallow me.
SMOKING WIENER
Melody – Rubber Ducky (Sesame Street)
Smoking Wiener (can replace with Hare’s name), you’re the one,
You make hashtime lots of fun,
Smoking Wiener, I’m awfully fond of you;
Woh woh, bee doh!
Smoking Wiener, joy of joys,
When I squeeze you, you make noise!
Smoking Wiener, you’re my very best fuck, it’s true!
Doo doo doo doooo, doo doo
CHORUS:
Every day when I
Make my way to the tubby
I find a hung fella who’s
Cute and bloody and chubby
Rub-a-dub-a-dubby!
Smoking Wiener, you’re so fine
And I’m lucky that you’re mine
Smoking Wiener, I’m awfully fond of you.
Smoking Wiener, you’re so fine
And I’m lucky that you’re mine
Smoking Wiener, I’m awfully fond of –
Smoking Wiener, I’d like a whole pond of –
Smoking Wiener, I’m awfully fond of you!
Do doo, be doo
SOUTH HUNTSVILLE
Melody – Margaritaville (Jimmy Buffett)
Nibblin’ on rum cake,
watchin’ the sun bake;
All of those hashers covered with beer.
Strokin’ my big thing on my front porch swing.
Smell those virgins–
They’re beginnin’ to fear.
Wasted away again in South Huntsville,
Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim that there’s a harriett to blame,
But I know it’s not my fault.
Don’t know the reason,
Hashed here all season
With nothing to show but this on-on tatoo.
But it’s a real beauty,
A fleet-footed cutie, how it got here
I haven’t a clue.
Wasted away again in South Huntsville,
Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim that there’s a harreitte to blame,
Now I think,– hell it can’t be my fault.
I blew my achilles,
Fell down to my knees;
Iced my heel, had to run on back home.
But there’s beer in the ice chest,
And soon I’ll feel some breast
That sexual attraction that helps me hash on.
Wasted away again in South Huntsville
Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim that there’s a harriette to blame,
But I know, it’s the beers damn fault.
Yes, and some people claim that there’s a woman to blame, And I
know it’s the beers damn fault.
SPEED HASHER
Melody – Speed Racer Theme
Here he comes,
Here comes Speed Hasher,
He’s a demon on heels,
You know he’s hashing after something,
(Pack shouts) BEER!
STROKING ME SOFTLY WITH HIS DONG
Melody – Killing Me Softly With His Words (Roberta Flack)
I heard he had a good dong, I heard he had a style.
And so I came to see him to have him for a while.
And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes.
CHORUS:
Strumming my labes with his fingers,
singing my life with his words,
stroking me softly with his dong,
stroking me softly with his dong,
filling my whole life with his wads,
stroking me softly with his dong
I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd,
I feared he’d find my G-spot and make me cry out loud.
I prayed that he would finish but he just kept right on.
He wanked as if he knew me in all my sexual despair
and then he looked right through me as if I wasn’t there.
But he just came on, stroking clear and strong
SUPERSTAR
Melody – Jesus Christ, Superstar
(Voice of the Pack)
Ev’ry time I hash with you
I don’t understand
Why you let the trail you lay
Get so out of hand
You’d have mis-managed better
If you’d had it planned
Now why’d you choose such a backward place
And such a strange land?
If you’d come today
You could have hashed a whole weekend
Rocket Shitty in 4 BC
Had no mass transportation
(Don’t you get me lost)
Don’t you get me lost
(Don’t you get me lost, now)
Don’t you get me lost
(Don’t you get me lost)
Don’t you get me lost
(Don’t you get me lost, now)
Don’t you get me lost
(Only want to hash)
Only want to hash
(Only want to hash, now)
Only want to hash
(Only want to hash)
Only want to hash
(Only want to hash, now)
Only want to hash
Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ
Who are you? What virgin have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ
Who are you? What virgin have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ
Superstar
Do you think you’re as clever as they say you are?
Jesus Christ
Superstar
Do you think you’re what as clever as say you are?
Tell me what you think
About your hashes to the top
Now who d’you think besides yourself
Was gonna climb an outcrop?
Buddah was just too fat?
Is he where you are?
Could Mahomet hash a mountain
TAKE ME HOME, COUNTRY ROADS
Melody – Same (John Denver)
Almost On In, Rocket Shitty,
Valley Mountains
Tennessee River.
Life is old there,
Older than the trees,
Younger than the mountains
Growin’ like a breeze.
CHORUS:
Country roads, take me home
To the place where I belong:
Rocket City, Monte Sano,
Take me home, country roads.
All my memories gathered ’round beer,
Hasher ladies, strangers to drinking water.
Dark and dusty, hashing on the sly,
Misty taste of moonshine,
Flour in my eye.
I hear her voice, in the mornin’ hour she calls me,
Whistles remind me of my home far away
And running down the road I get a feeling
I should have been home yesterday, yesterday
TENNESSEE VALLEY SUNDAY
Melody – Pleasant Valley Sunday (The Monkees)
Your local hash group down the street
Is trying hard to learn this song
To serenade the weekend hare
Who came out to throw flour down
Another Tennessee valley sunday
Hashers running everywhere
Marks of flour that are all the same
And no one seems to care
See Mrs. Gray she’s proud today
Because her yeasts are in bloom
And Mr. Green he’s so serene
He’s got a girl in every room
Another Tennessee valley sunday
Here in Rocket Shitty land
Hashers complain
About how hard trail is
And the virgins just don’t understand
Southern comfort shots
They only give me the squats
And make it hard for me to see
My thoughts all seem to stray
To places far away
I need a change of scenery
(Ta ta ta ta….)
Another Tennessee valley sunday
Hashers running everywhere
Another Tennessee valley sunday
Here in Rocket City land
Another Tennessee valley sunday (repeat)
The Dress My Father Wore
(originally “Sash my father wore”, edited by Smoking Wiener)
Sir I’m a Drunken Harrier,
From Erin’s Pub I came,
To see my Hashing brethren
All of honour and of fame,
And to tell them of my forefathers
Who hashed in days of yore,
That I might have the right to wear,
The dress my father wore!
CHORUS:
It is old, but it is beautiful,
And its colors they are green
It was worn at DC, Huntsville,
also Boston and the Bay.
My father wore it as a youth
In bygone runs of yore
And on St. Patrick’s Day I wear
The dress my father wore.
THE MORNING AFTER
Melody – Same (Maureen McGovern)
There’s got to be a morning after
If we can hash on through the night
We have a chance to drink some moonshine
Let’s keep on running through the night
Oh, can’t you see the naked bodies?
They’re waiting right outside the tent
Why don’t we start this trail together
And find a place to get really bent?
It’s not too late, we should be giving
Only with lust can we climax
It’s not too late, not while we’re living
et’s take our clothes off, one last time
There’s got to be a morning after
We’re running closer to the shore
I know we’ll be there by tomorrow
And we’ll escape the darkness
We won’t be groping any more
There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
There’s got to be a morning after
(There’s got to be a morning after)
THE RAIN, THE PARK AND OTHER THINGS
Melody – I Love the Flower Girl? (Calendar Girl?)
I saw her sitting in the rain
Golddrops falling on her
She didn’t seem to care
She sat there and smiled at me
Then I knew she could make me horny
(She could make me very horny)
Golden Shower in her hair
Golden Showers everywhere
I love my shower girl
Oh, I don’t know just why
She simply caught my eyes
I love my shower girl
She seemed so kind and sweet
She slipped onto my meat
I knew I had to say hello
(Raindrop, raindrop)
She smiled up at me
Then she took my thang
And we walked through the park alone
Then I knew she had made me horny
(She had made me very horny)
Golden Shower in her hair
Golden Showers everywhere
I love my shower girl
Oh, I don’t know just why
She simply peed in my eye
I love my shower girl
She seemed so kind and sweet
She slipped onto my meat
Suddenly the sun broke through
(See the sun)
I turned around, she was gone
(Where did she go?)
And all I had left was a little urine in my hair
But I knew she had made me horny
(She had made me very horny)
Golden Shower in her hair
Golden Showers everywhere
I love my shower girl
Was she reality
Or just a wet dream to me?
I love my shower girl
Her love showed me the way
To have a kinky day
I love my shower girl
Was she reality
Or just a wet dream to me?
THERE’S A KIND OF HASH
Melody – There’s A Kind Of Hush (Carpenters)
There’s a group, a hash
Running ‘round town tonight
All over the town
you can hear the sounds of hashers on trail
You know it’s their screams
Just the hare and us
and nobody else in sight
There’s nobody else and I’m feeling good
Just hashing tonight
So scout trail very carefully
Careful now ‘cause, were crossing a stream
It’s not a wet dream
The other sound that you will hear
Is when I whisper in your ear, I want you
I want sex on trail
THEY’VE GOT THE WORLD CUP IN THEIR HANDS
Melody – He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands
They’ve got the world cup in their hands
They’ve got the world cup in their hands
They’ve got the world cup in their hands
They’ve got the world cup in their hands
2. They’ve got their jerseys off and in their hands
3. They’ve got their little bitty breasts in their hands
4. They’ve got our old leather balls in their hands
5. They’ve got their huge old vibrator in their hands
They’ve got our big equipment in their hands
TIME AND HASH TRAIL PASSAGES
Melody – Time Passages (Al Stewart)
It was late in December, the sky turned to snow All round the beer was beginning to flow Night like a kegger beginning to go I felt the beat of my mind go Drifting into hash trail passages Beers get drunken in the fading light Hash trial passages Save me a backseat on the last car home tonight Well I’m not the kind to check back to the past The trails run too short and the days too fast The trails that you run on are the things that don’t last Well it’s just now and then my trail gets cast into these Hash trail passages There’s a check back here that you left behind Oh hash trail passages Save me a backseat on the last car home tonight Hear the On On’s and feel your head starting to turn Don’t know why you should feel That there’s something to learn It’s just a game that you play Well the circle is roundin’ Now you’re part of a crowd They’re laughing at something And the bawdy songs loud A girl comes to blow you You once used to know You reach out your hand But you’re all alone, in these Hash trail passages I know trail’s out there, it’s just out of sight Hash trail passages Save me a backseat on the last car home tonight
WE’RE A COUPLE OF HASHSHITS
Melody – We’re a Couple of Misfits (from Rudolph the Red-Rosed Reindeer)
We’re a couple of Hashshits
We’re a couple of Hashshits
what’s the matter with Hashshits
That’s where we fit in
We’re not daffy and dilly
Don’t run round willy nilly
Seems to us kind of silly
When we don’t on in
We may be
Different from the rest
Who decides the test
Of what is really best
We’re a couple of Hashshits
Not a couple a half wits
What’s the matter with Hashshits
That’s where we fit in
WHERE HAS ALL THE FLOUR GONE?
Melody – Where Have All The Flowers Gone (Peter, Paul, & Mary)
Where have all the hash marks gone, long time passing?
Where have all the hash marks gone, long time ago?
Where have all the hash marks gone?
Gone to rain fall, every one!
The last hash was long ago, the last hash was long ago.
Where have all the check marks gone, long time passing?
Where have all the check marks gone, a long time ago?
Where have all the check marks gone?
They’ve been wind blown, every one!
The last check was long ago, the last check was long ago.
Where have all the beer nears gone, long time passing?
Where have all the beer nears gone, long time ago?
Where have all the beer nears gone?
Drank by vagrants, every one!
When will hares ever learn, when will hares ever learn?
Where have all the hashers gone, long time passing?
Where have all the hashers gone, long time ago?
Where have all the hashers gone?
Gone to Bars, every one!
When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?
And where have the beer pitchers gone, long time passing?
Where have the beer pitchers gone, long time ago?
Where have the beer pitchers gone?
Gone to hashers, every one!
When will they ever leave, oh when will they ever leave?
WHO’LL STOP THE RAIN?
Melody – Same (J.C. Fogerty)
Long as I remember The rain been comin’ down.
Clouds of myst’ry pourin’ Shiggy all over the ground.
Good men through the checks, Tryin’ to find the trail;
And I’m haring, Still I’m haring, Who’ll stop the rain.
I went down to an old barn, Seekin’ shelter from the storm.
Caught up in the stable, I watched the pack on on..
Two month plans and new trails, Published in web chains.
And I’m haring, Still I’m haring Who’ll stop the rain.
Heard the singers bawdry’, How we cheered for more.
The crowd had circled together, Tryin’ to keep warm.
Still the rain kept pourin’, Fallin’ on my ears.
And I’m haring, Still I’m haring Who’ll stop the rain.
WHY DO DRUNKS SUDDENLY APPEAR?
Melody – Close to You
Why do drunks suddenly appear,
Everytime you are near?
Just like me, they long to be,
Fucked by you . . .
Why do stars fall down from the sky,
Everytime you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be,
Fucked by you . . .
On the day that you were born the hashers got together,
And decided to create a dream come true,
So they sprinkled flour in your hair
And golden lager in your eyes of blue . . .
That is why, all the boys in town,
Follow you, all around,
Just like me, they long to be,
Fucked by you . . .
On the day that you were born the hashers got together,
And decided to create a dream come true,
So they sprinkled flour in your hair
And golden lager in your eyes of blue . . .
That is why, all the boys in town,
Follow you, all around,
Just like me, they long to be,
Fucked by you . . .
Just like me, they long to be,
Fucked by you . . .
YOU’RE A GRAND OLD FAG
Melody – You’re a Grand Old Flag
– Down-down song for hashers in tights
You’re a grand old fag, you’re a tights wearing fag,
Forever your piece may you wave.
You’re the emblem of, the man I love,
The home of the free spirit knave.
Every hand beats you till you’re red, white, and blue,
Where there’s never a boast or a brag.
But should old acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old fag.
——————————————————————————–
YANKEE AIR PIRATES
Beneath a Korean Waterfall
Bring Him Home
Cigarettes and Sake
Come And Join the Air Force
Dashing Through the Sky
Dear Mom
Give Me Operations
Itazuke Tower
It’s Hard to Be Humble
Khartoum
Napalm Sticks to Kids
Red River Valley
Sammy Small
So Long
Stand To Your Glasses
Strafe the Town
Tchepone
There Are No Fighter Pilots Down in Hell
Throw a Nickel on the Grass (Korea)
Throw a Nickel on the Grass (Vietnam)
Yankee Air Pirate
You Can Tell a Fighter Pilot
BENEATH A KOREAN WATERFALL
Melody – incomplete MP3 here:
http://www.horntip.com/mp3/1990s/1997_itazuke_tower__dick_jonas_(CD)/03_korean_waterfall.htm
Beneath a Korean waterfall, one bright and sunny day,
Beside his shattered Sabrejet, a young pursuiter lay.
His parachute hung from a nearby tree, he was not yet quite dead,
So listen to the very last words, the young pursuiter said:
“We’re going to a better land where everything is bright,
Where whiskey flows from telephone poles, play poker every night!
We haven’t got a thing to do but sit around and sing,
And all our crews are women.
“Oh death, where is thy sting!”
“Oh death, where is thy sting, ting-a-ling,
Oh death, where is thy sting?
The bells of hell will ring, ring-a-ling,
For you but not for me!”
“Oh, ring-a-ling-a-ling, blow it out your ass,
Ring-a-ling-a-ling, blow it out your ass,
Ring-a-ling-a-ling, blow it out your ass,
Better days are coming bye and bye!”
CIGARETTES AND SAKE
Melody – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5jarRec3qo
Contributed by Llewtrah
Now once I was happy, I had a dear wife,
I had enough yen to last me for life,
I met with a josan, we went on a spree,
She started me smokin’ and drinking sake.
CHORUS:
Cigarettes and sake and wild, wild josans,
They’ll drive you crazy, they’ll drive you insane,
Cigarettes, and sake and wild, wild josans,
They’ll drive you crazy, they’ll drive you insane.
I got into bed then, some sleep for to get,
She said, “No sleep, flyboy, I no tired yet,”
Well, I woke the next morning, a quarter past ten,
I was missing my wallet and ten thousand yen.
Now back in Chitose, I’m limping about,
Me and the doctor are sweating it out,
He gave me some pills from a jug on the shelf,
Then he poured out a dozen or two for himself.
COME AND JOIN THE AIR FORCE
Melody – incomplete MP3 here: http://www.horntip.com/mp3/1960s/1960ca_the_wild_blue_yonder__oscar_brand_(LP)/03_come_and_join_the_air_force.htm
This song seems to have verses from several wars.”TWX,” pronounced “twix,” is an electronic message.The verse from the Korean War and the final verse (the Air Force became a separate service in 1948) are clearly newer additions, but that’s where it stops – it seems Vietnam didn’t add a verse . . .F.B.
Come on and join the Air Force, and get your flying pay.
You never have to work at all, just fly around all day.
While others toil and study hard, and soon grow old and blind,
We’ll take the air without a care, and you will never mind.
CHORUS:
You’ll never mind, you’ll never mind,
Oh, come and join the Air Force,
And you will never mind!
Come on and get promoted, as high as you desire,
You’re riding on a gravy train, when you’re an Air Force flyer.
But just when you’re about to be a general you’ll find,
The engine cough, the wings fall off, and you will never mind.
And when you loop and spin her, with an awful tear,
You find yourself without your wings, but you will never care.
For in about two minutes more, another pair you’ll find,
You’ll fly with Peter and his angels sweet, and you will never mind.
You’re flying over the ocean, you hear your engine spit,
You see your prop come to a stop, the Goddamn engine’s quit.
The ship won’t float, you cannot swim, the shore is miles behind,
Oh, what a dish for the crabs and fish, but you will never mind.
I fly up to the Yalu, in my F-Eighty-Six,
And here’s on thing that you can send to Congress in your TWX,
I’ve only got one engine, Jack, and if that bastard quits,
It will be up there all by itself, ’cause I will shit and git!
Oh, someday you’ll meet a MiG-15, he’ll shoot you down in flames,
No use in bellyaching and calling the bastard names,
You’ll lose your wings, don’t worry Mac, another pair you’ll find,
You’ll fly with Pete and the angels sweet, and you will never mind.
Oh, we’re just a bunch of Air Force lads, and we don’t give a damn,
About the groundling’s point of view, and all that sort of ham.
We want a hundred thousand ships, of each and every kind,
And now we’ve got our own Air Force, so we will never mind!
DASHING THROUGH THE SKY
Melody – Jingle Bells
“Foxtrot one-oh-five” is the F-105 Thunderchief.”SAM” is a surface-to-air missile.”T.R.V.” is a particular target.”CBUs, Mark 82s, Seven-fifties” are bombs.”Daddy Vulcan” refers to the F-105’s Vulcan cannon
Dashing through the sky,
In a Foxtrot one-oh-five,
Through the flak we fly,
Trying to stay alive.
The SAMs destroy your calm,
The MiGs come up to play,
What fun it is to strafe and bomb,
The T.R.V. today!
CHORUS:
CBUs, Mark 82s, Seven-fifties, too,
Daddy Vulcan strikes again,
Our Christmas gift to you.
Head’s up Ho Chi Minh,
The Fives are on their way,
Your luck it has give in,
There’s going to be hell to pay.
Today it is our turn,
To make you gawk and stare,
What fun it is to watch things burn,
And blow up everywhere!
DEAR MOM
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/dear-mom/
“FAC”=forward air controller.”DASC”=direct air support coordinator.”Stinger Flight,” “Hornets”= aircraft and crews of the 43rd Tactical Fighter Squadron
Dear Mom, your son is dead, he bought the farm today,
He crashed his OV-10 on the Ho Chi Minh highway.
He made a rocket pass, and then he busted his ass,
Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm.
He flew across the fence to see what he could see,
And there it was, as plain as it could be.
There was a truck on the road, with a big heavy load.
Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm.
He got right on the horn, and gave the DASC a call,
“Send me air, I’ve got a truck that’s stalled.”
The DASC said, “That’s all right, I’ll send the Stinger Flight,
For I AM THE POWER!”
Those Hornets checked right in, gunfighters two by two,
Low on gas and tanker overdue.
They asked the FAC to mark, just where the truck was parked,
Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm.
That Bronco rolled right in , with his smoke to mark,
EXACTLY where that truck was parked.
But now the rest is in doubt, ’cause he never pulled out,
Hmm, hmm, hmmmmm.
With reverence: Dear Mom, your son is dead, he bought the farm today,
He crashed his OV-10 on the Ho Chi Minh Highway.
He made a rocket pass, then he busted his ass,
Hmm, hmm, FUCK HIM!
Sung to “Camptown Races”: Motherfucker’s dead, motherfucker’s dead,
Son’s comin’ home in a body bag,
Oh, doo dah day!
Spoken: How did he go?STRAIGHT IN!
What was he doing?THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE!
Hell of a deal.WHOOOOOEE!
Cocksucker, motherfucker, eat a bag of shit,
Cunt hair, douche bag, bite your mother’s tit.
We’re the best fighter squadron, all the others suck.
Bronco FAC, Bronco FAC, rah, rah, FUCK!
GIVE ME OPERATIONS
Melody – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rL5vX4_rGes
Don’t give me a P-38,
The props they counter-rotate,
They’re scattered and smitten from Burma to Britain,
Don’t give me a P-38.
CHORUS:
Just give me operations,
Way out on some lonely atoll,
For I am too young to die,
I just want to grow old.
Don’t give me a p-39,
The engine is mounted behind,
They’ll tumble and spin and auger you in,
Don’t give me a P-39.
Don’t give me a Peter Four-Oh,
A hell of an airplane I know,
A ground loopin’ bastard, you’re sure to get plastered,
Don’t give me a Peter Four-Oh.
Don’t give me a P-51,
It was alright for fighting the Hun,
But with coolant tank dry, you’ll run out of sky,
Don’t give me a P-51.
Don’t give me a P-61,
For night flyin’ is no fun,
They say it’s a lark, but I’m scared of the dark,
Don’t give me a P-61.
Don’t give me an F-84,
She’s just a gound-lovin’ whore,
She’ll whine, moan, and wheeze, and she’ll clobber the trees,
Don’t give me an F-84.
Don’t give me an old Thunderbolt,
It gave many a pilot a jolt,
It looks like a jug and it flies like a tug,
Don’t give me an old Thunderbolt.
Don’t give me a jet Shooting Star,
It’ll go, but not very far.
It’ll rumble and spout, but soon will flame out,
Don’t give me a jet Shooting Star.
Don’t give me an F-86,
With wings like broken match sticks,
They’ll zoom and they’ll hover, but as for top cover,
Don’t give me an F-86.
Don’t give me an F-89,
Though Time says they’ll really climb,
They’re all in the States, all boxed up in crates,
Don’t give me an F-89.
Don’t give me an F-94,
It’s never established a score,
It may fly in weather, but won’t hold together,
Don’t give me an F-94.
Don’t give me an 86-D,
With rockets, radar, and A/B,
She’s fast, I don’t care, she blows up in midair,
Don’t give me an 86-D.
Don’t give me a C-45,
So slow it stalls out in a dive,
A ground loop built in it, and bird colonels in it,
Don’t give me a C-45.
Don’t give me a C-54,
Six inches of rugs on the floor,
And we’ll go fat-cattin’ from here to Manhatten,
Don’t give me a C-54.
Don’t give me a B-45,
The pilots don’t get back alive,
The MiG-15’s chase ’em, they soon will erase ’em,
Don’t give me a B-45.
Don’t give me a One-Double-Oh,
The bastard is ready to blow,
The A/B is there, but you’re sayin’ a prayer,
Don’t give me a One-Double-Oh.
Don’t give me an F-102,
It never goes up when it’s blue,
An all-weather coffin, that flames out so often,
Don’t give me an F-102.
Don’t give me a Phantom 4C,
Radar, co-pilot, A/B,
It may be some fun, but it don’t have a gun,
Don’t give me a Phantom 4C.
ITAZUKE TOWER
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/itazuke-tower/
“Itazuke Tower, this is Air Force 801,
I’m turning on the downwind leg, my prop has overrun.
My coolant’s overheated, the gauge says 1-2-1,
You’d better get the crash crew out and get them on the run.”
“Listen, Air Force 801, this is Itazuke Tower,
I cannot call the crash crew out, it is their coffee hour.
You’re not cleared in the pattern, now that is plain to see,
So take it once around again, you’re not a VIP.”
“Itazuke Tower, this is Air Force 801,
I’m turning on my final, I’m running on one lung.
I’m gonna land this Mustang no matter what you say,
I’m gonna get my charts squared up before that Judgement Day.”
“Now listen, Air Force 801, this is Itazuke Tower,
We’d like to let you land right now, but we haven’t got the power.
We’ll send a note through channels and wait for the reply,
Until we get permission back, just chase around the sky.”
“Itazuke Tower, this is Air Force 801,
I’m up in Pilot’s Heaven and my flying days are done.
I’m sorry that I blew up, I couldn’t make the grade,
I guess I should have waited till the landing was okayed.”
IT’S HARD TO BE HUMBLE
Melody – Oh Lord, It’s Hard to be Humble
Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble,
When you’re flying the great F-15.
I can’t wait to strap on my Eagle,
She’s one helluva mean gray machine.
To know her is to love her,
By God(you know what I mean!
Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble,
When you’re flying the great F-15.
We’re proud to be Hornets,
We’re the best and we just can’t be beat.
Just ask the boys who’ve fought us,
They’ll tell you we don’t know defeat.
To know us is to love us,
We’re one helluva bunch of good guys.
Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble,
When you know that you’re rulin’ the skies.
The MiGs they can’t ignore us,
But we hope they’ll give it a try.
All we ask is a chance to meet them,
We’ll blow ’em right out of the sky.
Like we said, we try to be humble,
And for those who don’t see it that way,
Thank God we’re fightin’ on your side,
‘Cause we mean every word that we say.
KHARTOUM
Melody – ???
Contributed by Llewtrah
There’s bags of batchy airmen, way down in the sunny Sudan,
Where everyone is batchy and so’s the fucking old man,
There’s bags and bags of bullshit, saluting on the square,
And when we’re not saluting we’re up in the fucking air.
We’re leaving Khartoum, by the light of the moon,
We travel by night and by day,
As we pass Kasfereit, we’ll have fuck all to eat,
‘Cause we’ve thrown all our rations away.
Shire, Shire, Somersetshire,
The skipper looks on her with pride,
He’d have a blue fit, if he saw any shit,
On the side of the Somersetshire.
This is my story, this is my song,
I’ve been in this air force too fucking long,
So bring on the Rodney, Nelson, Renown,
They can’t bring the Hood, ’cause the fucker’s gone down.
Tooralay, tooralay.
Oh, we’ll fuck all the SP’s who come down our way.
NAPALM STICKS TO KIDS
Melody – ???
“Frags”=fragmentation bombs.”Flechettes” are bits of anti-personnel scrapnel coated with a fast-acting blood de-coagulant.”PSYOPS” is Army-ese for psychological operations, which, coupled with the references to the CIA, Montagnards, and gunships, makes me think this song came out of the “spook” community
We shoot the sick, the young, the lame,
We do our best to maim,
Because the kills all count the same,
Napalm sticks to kids.
CHORUS:
Napalm sticks to kids,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Flying low across the trees,
Pilots doing what they please,
Dropping frags on refugees,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Goods in the open, making hay,
But I can hear the gunships say,
“There’ll be no Chieu Hoi today,”
Napalm sticks to kids.
See those farmers over there,
Watch me get them with a pair,
Blood and guts just everywhere,
Napalm sticks to kids.
I’ve only seen it happen twice,
But both times it was mighty nice,
Shooting peasants planting rice,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Napalm, son, is lots of fun,
Dropped in a bomb or shot from a gun,
It gets the gooks when on the run,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Drop some napalm on a farm,
It won’t do them any harm,
Just burn off their legs and arms,
Napalm sticks to kids.
CIA with guns for hire,
Montagnards around a fire,
Napalm makes the fire go higher,
Napalm sticks to kids.
I’ve been told it’s not so neat,
To catch gooks burning in the street,
But burning flesh, it smells to sweet,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Children sucking on a mother’s tit,
Wounded gooks down in a pit,
Dow Chemical doesn’t give a shit,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Bombadiers don’t care a bit,
Just as long as the pieces fit,
When you stuff the bodies in a pit,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Eighteen kids in a No Fire Zone,
Rooks under arms and going home,
Last in line goes home alone,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Chuck in a sampan, sitting in the stern,
They don’t think their boats will burn,
Those damn gooks will never learn,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Cobras flying in the sun,
Killing gooks is lots of fun,
Get one pregnant and it’s two for one,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Shoot civilians where they sit,
Take some pictures as you split,
All your life you’ll remember it,
Napalm sticks to kids.
NVA are all hard core,
Flechettes never are a bore,
Throw those PSYOPS out the door,
Napalm sticks to kids.
Gather kids as you fly over town,
By throwing candy on the ground,
Then grease ’em when they gather ’round,
Napalm sticks to kids.
RED RIVER VALLEY
Melody – Same
“S-2” is intelligence; “AAR” is pronounced “A-A-R,” and stands for air-to-air refueling
To the Red River Valley we are going,
For to get us some trains and some trucks.
But if I had my say so about it,
I’d still be at home in the sack.
Come and sit by my side at the briefing,
Do not hasten to bid me adieu.
To the Red River Valley we’re going,
And I’m flying four in Flight Blue.
We went for to check on the weather,
And they said it was clear as could be.
I lost my wingman ’round the field,
And the rest augered in out at sea.
S-2 said there’s no flak where we’re going,
S-2 said there’s no flak on the way.
There’s a dark overcast o’er the target,
I’m beginning to doubt what they say.
To the valley they say we are going,
And many strange sights will we see.
But the one there that held my attention,
Was the SAM that they threw up at me.
To the valley he said he was flying,
And he never saw the medal that he earned.
Many jocks have flown into the valley,
And a number have never returned.
So I listened as he briefed on the mission,
Tonight at the bar Teak Flight will sing.
But we’re going to the Red River Valley,
And today you are flying my wing.
Oh, the flak is so thick in the valley,
That the MiGs and the SAMs we don’t need.
So fly high and down-sun in the valley,
And guard well the ass of Teak Lead.
Now things turn to shit in the valley,
And the briefing I gave, you don’t heed.
They’ll be waiting at the Hanoi Hilton,
And it’s fish heads and rice for Teak Lead.
We refueled on the way to the valley,
In the States it had always been fun.
But with thunder and lightning all around us,
’twas the last AAR for Teak One.
When he came to a bridge in the valley,
He saw a duty that he couldn’t shun.
For the first to roll in on the target,
Was my leader, old Teak Number One.
Oh, he flew through the flak toward the target,
With his bombs and his rockets drew a bead.
But he never pulled out of his bomb run,
’twas fatal for another Teak Lead.
So come sit by my side at the briefing,
We will sit there and tickle the beads.
For we’re going to the Red River Valley,
And my call sign for today is Teak Lead.
SAMMY SMALL
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/sammy-small/
Vietnam war version
Oh, come round us fighter pilots, fuck ’em all,
Oh, come round us fighter pilots, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we fly the Goddamn plane,
Through the flak and through the rain,
And tomorrow we’ll do it again,
So fuck ’em all.
Oh, they tell us not to think, fuck ’em all,
Oh, they tell us not to think, fuck ’em all,
Oh, they tell us not to think,
Just to dive and just to jink,
LBJ’s a Goddamn fink,
So fuck ’em all.
Oh, we bombed Mu Gia Pass, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we bombed Mu Gia Pass, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we bombed Mu Gia Pass,
Though we only made one pass,
They really stuck it up our ass,
So fuck ’em all.
Oh, we’re on a JCS, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we’re on a JCS, fuck ’em all,
Oh, they sent the whole damn wing,
Probably half of us will sing,
What a silly fucking thing,
So fuck ’em all.
Oh, we lost our fucking way, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we lost our fucking way, fuck ’em all,
Oh, we strafed Goddamn Hanoi,
Killed every fucking girl and boy,
What a Goddamn fucking joy,
So fuck ’em all.
Oh, my bird got all shot up, fuck ’em all,
Oh, my bird got all shot up, fuck ’em all,
Oh, my bird it did get shot,
And I’ll probably cry a lot,
But I think that it’s Shit Hot!
So fuck ’em all.
SO LONG
Melody – unknown
Another POW song contributed by Ed Cray
I have not seen a flower for so long, for so long
I have not seen a flower for so long
I need to see a flower before my dying hour
But I do not have the power as I bid this world so long
I have not seen a face . . .
I have not seen a face . . .
I need to see a face belonging to my race
But I will not in this place as I bid this world so long
I have tried hard to forgive . . .
I have tried hard to forgive . . .
I have tried hard to forgive a God that lets me live
Under laws he should forbid as I bid this world so long
I’ve been tortured in this cave . . .
I’ve been tortured in this cave . . .
I’ve been tortured in this cave wondering if I would be saved
But it soon will be my grave as I bid this world so long
I’ve been held in Dong Danai . . .
I’ve been held in Dong Danai . . .
I’ve been held in Dong Danai and I very soon will die
If you think this song’s a lie you are wrong, you are wrong
STAND TO YOUR GLASSES
Melody – ???
I wish I knew the history of this song.It doesn’t have the standard American military mix of optimism and cynicism, so I suspect it originated in another country, maybe Germany or England
We stand ‘neath resounding rafters,
The walls around are bare.
They echo back our laughter,
Seems that the dead are all there.
CHORUS:
Stand to your glasses steady,
This world is a world of lies.
Here’s a health to the dead already,
Hurrah for the next man to die.
Denied by the land that bore us,
Betrayed by the ones we held dear.
The good have all gone before us,
To show where our comrades have gone.
In flaming Spad and Camel,
With wings of wood and steel.
For mortal stakes we gamble,
With cards that were stacked for the deal.
STRAFE THE TOWN
Melody – Ring the Bells and Call the People
“High drags” are bombs; “20 millimeter” (or “mike mike”) are rounds from the aircraft’s cannon
Strafe the town and kill the people,
Lay your high drags in the square.
Roll in early Sunday morning,
Catch them while they’re still at prayer.
Drop some candy to the orphans,
Watch them as they gather ’round.
Use your 20 millimeter,
Mow the little bastards down.
See the fat old pregnant women,
Running through the field in fear.
Run your 20 mike mike through them,
Hope the film comes out real clear.
Strafe the town and kill the people,
Hit them with your poison gas.
See them throwing up their breakfast,
As you make your second pass.
TCHEPONE
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/tchepone/
Note: “dial in the mils” is about depressing the pipper, which is depressed or elevated in miliradians, which. . . well, it’s about setting up the bomb sight, okay?
I was hangin’ ’round ops, just spendin’ my time,
Off of the schedule, not earnin’ a dime,
A colonel comes up and he says, “I suppose
You fly a fighter, from the cut of your clothes.”
He figgers me right, “I’m a good one,” I say,
“Do you happen to have me a target today?”
Says yes he does, a real easy one,
“No sweat, my boy, it’s an old-time milk run.”
I gits all excitedand asks where it’s at,
He gives me a wink and a tip of his hat.
“It’s three-fifty miles to the northwest of home,
A small peaceful hamlet that’s know as Tchepone.”
(Ah, you’ll sure love Tchepone!)
I go get my G-suit and strap on my gun,
Helmet and gloves, out the door on the run;
Fire up my Phantom and take to the air,
Two’s tucked in tight and we haven’t a care.
In forty-five minutes we’re over the town,
From twenty-eight thousand we’re screamin’ on down.
Arm up the switches and dial in the mils,
Rack up the wings and roll in for the kill.
We feel a bit sorry for the folks down below,
Of destruction that’s comin’ they surely don’t know;
But the thought passes quickly, we know a war’s on,
And on down we scream toward peaceful Tchepone.
Release altitude, and the pipper’s not right,
I’ll press just a little and lay ’em in tight;
I pickle those beauties at two-point five grand,
Startin’ my pull when it all hits the fan.
A black puff in front, and then two off the right,
Then six or eight more and I suck it up tight;
There’s small arms and tracers and heavy ack-ack,
It’s scattered to broken with all kinds of flak.
I jink hard to left and head out for the blue,
My wingman says, “Lead!They’re shootin’ at you!”
And still comes the fire from the town of Tchepone.
(Dirty, deadly Tchepone!)
I make it back home with six holes in my bird,
With the colonel who sent me I’d sure like a word;
But he’s nowhere around, though I look near and far,
He’s gone back to Seventh to help run the war.
I’ve been ’round this country for many a day,
I’ve seen the things that they’re throwin’ my way;
I know that there’s places I don’t like to go, down in the Delta and in Tally-Ho,
But I’ll bet all my flight pay the jock ain’t been born,
Who can keep all his cool when he’s over Tchepone.
THERE ARE NO FIGHTER PILOTS DOWN IN HELL
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/ain-t-no-fighter-pilot-s-down-in-hell/
Oh, there are no fighter pilots down in hell,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots down in hell,
The place is full of queers, navigators, bombardiers,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots down in hell.
Oh, there are no fighter pilots in the States,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots in the States,
They’re off on foreign shores, making mothers out of whores,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots in the States.
Oh, there are no fighter pilots up in wing,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots up in wing,
The place is full of brass, sitting ’round on their fat ass,
Oh, there are no fighter pilots up in wing.
Oh, a bomber pilot never takes a dare,
Oh, a bomber pilot never takes a dare,
The autopilot on, he’s reading novels in the john,
Oh, a bomber pilot never takes a dare.
Oh, there are no bomber pilots in the fray,
Oh, there are no bomber pilots in the fray,
They are all in USOs, wearing womens’ fancy clothes,
Oh, there are no bomber pilots in the fray.,
Oh, it’s naughty, naughty, naughty, but it’s nice,
Oh, it’s naughty, naughty, naughty, but it’s nice,
It’ll wreck your reputation, but increase the population,
Oh, it’s naughty, naughty, naughty, but it’s nice.
THROW A NICKEL ON THE GRASS (I)
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/save-a-fighter-pilot-s-ass/
Korean war version
“Skoshe” is Japanese for little; “E and E” is escape and evasion
It was midnight in Korea, all the pilots were in bed,
When up stepped Colonel _______, and this is what he said:
“I hate the Goddamn place!
Mustangs, gentle pilots, Mustangs one and all,
Mustangs, gentle pilots,” and the pilots shouted, “Balls!”
Then up stepped a young lieutenant with a voice as harsh as brass,
“You can take those Goddamn Mustangs, Jack, and shove ’em up your ass!”
CHORUS:
Oh hallelujah, oh hallelujah,
Throw a nickel on the grass,
Save a fighter pilot’s ass.
Oh hallelujah, oh hallelujah,
Throw a nickel on the grass,
And you’ll be saved!
Cruising down the Yalu doing three-twenty per,
I called to my flight leader, “Oh, won’t you save me, sir?
Got two big flak holes in my wing, my tanks ain’t got no gas,
Mayday, mayday, mayday!Got six MiGs on my ass!”
I flew my traffic pattern, to me it looked all right,
My airspeed read 130, my God, I racked it tight,
I turned into the final, my engine gave a wheeze,
“Mayday, mayday, mayday!Spin instructions, please!”
Fouled up my crosswind landing, my left wing hit the ground,
Came a call from tower: “Pull up and go around.”
Racked that Mustang in the air a dozen feet or more,
I’m on my back, it’s worse than flak, why did I use full bore?
Split S into my bomb run, I got too Goddamn low,
I pressed the bloody button, let both my babies go,
I sucked the stick back in my gut_I hit a high-speed stall,
Now I won’t see my mother when the work’s all done this fall!
They sent my up to Pyongyang, the brief said “Skoshe ack-ack,”
But by the time I got there, the wings were holed by flak.
My aircraft went into a spin, it would no longer fly,
“Mayday, mayday, mayday!I’m too young to die!”
I bailed out from that Mustang, my landing was top line,
With my E and E equipment, I made for our front line.
But when I opened up my ration tin to see what was in it,
The Goddamn quartermaster had filled the thing with shit!
Now in this Commie prison camp, I am obliged to sit,
For one cannot go very far on a ration tin of shit.
If I am ever free again, I will no longer fly,
But I’ll have quartermaster balls for breakfast till the day I die!
THROW A NICKEL ON THE GRASS (II)
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/save-a-fighter-pilot-s-ass/
Vietnam war version
American military planners divided Vietnam into “Route Packages” for air operations.”Route Package Six” included Hanoi and environs, the most heavily-defended part of North Vietnam
We were cruising over Hanoi, doin’ four and fifty per,
When I called to my flight leader, “Oh, won’t you save me, sir?
The SAMs are hot and heavy, the MiGs are on our ass,
Take us home, flight leader, please don’t make another pass!”
CHORUS:
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Throw a nickel on the grass,
Save a fighter pilot’s ass.
Hallelujah, hallelujah,
Throw a nickel on the grass,
And you’ll be saved.
I rolled into my bomb run, trying to set the pipper right,
When a SAM came off the launch pad, and headed for our flight.
Then number two informed me, “Hey, four, you better break!”
I racked that Goddamned plane so hard, it made the whole thing shake.
I started my recovery, it seemed that things would be all right,
When I felt the damnedest impact, saw a blinding flash of light.
We held the stick with all our might, against the binding force,
Then number two screamed out at us, “Hey, four, you’ve had the course!”
I screamed at my back seater, “We’d better punch on out,
Eject!Eject!You stupid shit!” in panic I did shout.
I didn’t wait around to see if Joe had got the word,
I reached between my legs and pulled, and took off like a bird.
As I descended in my chute, my thoughts were rather grim,
Rather than be a prisoner, I’d fight them to the end.
I hit the ground and staggered up, and looked around to see,
And there in blazing neon, Hanoi Hilton welcomed me.
Slowly: The moral of this story is, when you’re in Package Six,
You’d better Goddamn look around, or you’ll be in my fix.
I’m here at Hanoi Hilton, with luxury sublime,
The only thing that’s not so great_I’ll be here a long, long, long time.
YANKEE AIR PIRATE
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/yankee-air-pirate/
I am a Yankee air pirate,
With DTs and blood-shot eyeballs,
My nerves are all run down from bombing downtown,
From SAM breaks and bad bandit calls.
CHORUS:
A Yankee air pirate, a Yankee air pirate, a Yankee air pirate am I,
A Yankee air pirate, a Yankee air pirate, if I don’t get my hundred I’ll die.
I’ve carried iron bombs on the outboards,
Flown fast CAP for F-One-Oh-Thuds,
I’ve sniveled a counter or two once or twice,
And sweated my own rich red blood.
I’ve been downtown to both bridges,
To that Nguyen, Dep, and Phuc Yen,
And if you ask me, then I’m sure you can see,
There’s no place up there I ain’t been.
YOU CAN TELL A FIGHTER PILOT
Melody – http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/fighter-pilot-lies/
By the ring around his eyeball you can tell a bombardier,
You can tell a bomber pilot by the spread around his rear,
You can tell a navigator by his sextants, charts, and such,
You can tell a fighter pilot, but you can’t tell him much.
CHORUS:
It’s a lie, it’s a lie,
If a fighter pilot tells it you can bet that it’s a lie,
It’s a lie, it’s a lie,
If a fighter pilot tells you it’s a goddamned lie!
We fly our fucking fighters down to forty fucking feet,
Through the fucking corn and through the fucking wheat.
First you fly the fuckers up and then you fly the f-uckers down
And you’ll be the first to know when you hit the fucking ground.
Rollin’ on target with your burners all aglow.
You put your pipper on them and you let your napalm go.
First you jink out to the left and then jink out to the right
And you hit the deck a-running and make it home another night.
——————————————————————————–
Dear Hashers,
My first songbook, published in 1993, contained 160 songs . . . this edition, updated in early 2011, contains more than 800, not counting variations and alternate versions of certain songs. The more hashers I meet the more songs I learn. Thank you, one and all, for your contributions.
The Half-Mind Hymnal is an ongoing labor of love, constantly being added to, revised, and improved. If you know songs that aren’t printed here or melodies to tunes I haven’t been able to track down, please get in touch with me.
On-On!
Flying Booger
e-mail: flyboog@pwoodford.net
Half-Mind Hymnal compiled by Flying Booger
Updated February 9, 2011
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