Saigon
Hash House Harriers Hymnal
Introduction
These songs have been selected using the very best criteria - good taste,
wit, good taste, sing-alongability, good taste and tradition. Being about
beer and/or sex is also important, being in good taste is less so. Some editing
has been performed, partly to customize the songs for the Saigon Hash House
Harriers, partly for space reasons, and partly because some verses are so
rank that they bring a blush even to the Ed's shell-pink ears. Bearing in
mind that SH3 is a family Hash, bestiality is permissible but necrophilia
and incest are out. Contributions of new songs and new lyrics to current songs
are very welcome, as are suggestions for improvements.
On!
On!
Pencil Dick
Disclaimer
Many of these songs are rude, crude, disgusting, offensive and devoid of any
redeeming feature whatsoever, to say nothing of being politically incorrect
(and those are their good points). Keep out of reach of children and those
of delicate sensibilities.
Warning
The Hash Quack has determined that singing Hash Songs may be dangerous to
your mental health.
Acknowledgements
These songs were gathered from several sources, including:
Global Trash H3
Flying Booger's Half-mind Catalog
Assorted Hash Song Books - (Saigon, Warsaw and Helsinki)
Assorted Hashers - Big Red, Chorizo, Cupid Stunt, Gobbler, Razor,
Ringmaster, Scooby Do Me and Vaporub as well as numerous others,
the memories of whom have faded away in the alcoholic mists of the Hash Bus.
Bless you all.
The
Down-Down Song
A Toast to the Bus Riding Hashers
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot
Our Lager
Farewell Song
Hash Anthem I
Hash Anthem II
The Road Song
Aahlawetta
All Things Bright and Beautiful
Ancient Hash Song
Are You Lonesome Tonight?
The Ballad Of The Bobbit Hillbillies
The Banana Boat Song
The Beery Bunch
Bestiality's Best
Bruces' Philosophers Song
Can You Walk a Little Way With It In?
Cats On The Rooftops
Chicago
Columbo
Cucumber Song
Dickey Louse
The Doggies' Meeting
Dough, Ray, Me
Every Sperm is Sacred
Father Abraham
Father Damien
Gonorrhea
Hare!
Hark! The Hashing Horn
Harriettes, They Play One
Has Anybody Seen J.C.?
The Hash House Harriers
The Hashstones
Have An Erection
The Hedgehog Song
Hello Penis
Her Left Tit
How To Handle A Date (Duet)
I Don't Want To Join The Army
I Saw Three Dots
Irian Jaya
I've Got The Clap Again
Life Presents A Dismal Picture
Lily the Pink
Lion-Hunt Song
Lloyd George
Lumberjack Song
Masturbata
Masturbation (Fornication)
Mayor Of Bayswater's Daughter
Monday Is A Wanking Day
The Moose Song (Harriers' Version)
The Moose Song (Harriettes' Version)
More Beer
More Beer: The Original Verses
Muffdivers in the Sky
The Municipal Sewerageman
The Music Man
My God How The Money Rolls In
My Sister Belinda
Oh, Sir Percy
The Old Irish State
The Old Bazaar In Cairo
Once a Bloody Hasher
One On The Table
Or Would You Rather Prop up a Bar
Our GM
The Penis Song
The Clitoris Song
Pissed
The Restroom Door Said "Gentlemen"
Return To Sender
Rubber Dickie
The Sexual Life Of The Camel
She Had Big Mountains
She'll Be Puffin' Like A Steam Train When She Cums
Short-Cutter's Rhapsody
Show Me the Way to Go Home
Singing In The Rain
Sit on My Face
Spiders In My Hair
Super Hasher
Swilligan's Island
The Twelve Days of Ramadan
Vegetables Are The Best
We Three Queens
We Go Hashing
Who Needs Sex?
The Wild Hasher I
The Wild Hasher II
Wild West Show
Woodpecker's Song
Yesterday
Yogi Bear
The following song accompanies the down-downs and is designed to make you:
-
throw up (sensitive persons)
-
throw up on the crowd (for those who have had just sufficient)
-
throw up voluntarily with a half-twist - no hand on hip (for hardened Hashers)
-
throw-up twice (for music lovers)
-
know when to throw up (for the blind)
-
look around in complete bewilderment at what the f--k is going on (for the deaf)
The words are sung to no particular tune and
may be accompanied by Andalusian Nose Flute
Here's to the ______, they are blue!
They are bastards through and through!
They are pisspots so they say,
And they'll never go to heaven in a long long way!
(all throw up)
Drink it down down down down, etc
(followed by)
Why are we waiting, etc...
A
Toast to the Bus Riding Hashers
(Recital)
O here's to the Bus riding hashers,
The pitiful, penniless poor.
No drivers have they, no cars guide their way,
Their air-con's a wide open door.
O here's to the Bus riding hashers,
The battered, the broken, the brave.
They're jolted by ruts and bleeding from cuts
And smell like dead things from the grave.
O here's to the Bus riding hashers,
Surrounded by water and beer
With no place to pee, no toilet nor tree,
They use any container that's near.
O here's to the Bus riding hashers,
The beer swilling, song singing souls,
Saigon's armpits they say, life's dropouts are they,
Come Sunday they crawl from their holes.
O here's to the Bus riding hashers,
To the noise, to the sweat, to the smell,
To the young and the old, to the timid and bold,
Hash Cash makes them all run like hell!
Here's a toast to the Bus riding hashers,
Here's to sweet songs as yet still unsung,
Here's to beer, always cold, here's to stories untold,
Here's to soft seats that comfort their bum.
(Chorus)
Swing low, Sweet Chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
Swing low, Sweet Chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I look 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.
If you get there before I do,
Coming for to carry me home,
Tell all my friends I'm coming too
Coming for to carry me home,
(Repeat Chorus for various versions -
humming, silent, falsetto, double-time, etc)
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 Ale, and the Lager,
Forever and ever,
Barmen.
Farewell Song
(to the tune of: "Auld Lang Syne")
We bid farewell to ______,
To hash in other lands,
We bid farewell to ______,
To hash in other lands.
May all your hash trails end with beer,
May all your trails have beer,
We bid farewell to ______,
Now here is one more beer.
Drink it down, down, down, down,
Down, down, down, down,
Down, down, down, down,
Down, down, down, down.
(Continue or go to "Why Are We Waiting")
Hash Anthem I
(to the tune of: "Choral Stanza, Beethoven's 9th Symphony")
Come on Saigon 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.
Hash Anthem II
(to the tune of: "Pomp and Circumstance")
Come on Saigon Hashers,
Lift your beers and shout.
We are Saigon Hashers,
What we've got we flout.
Close the narrow circle,
Gather round the beer.
Hashing, Wanking, Drinking,
That is why we're here.
The Road Song
(to the tune of: "This Old Man")
(To be sung by SH3 Hashers visiting other Hashes)
Phnom Penh Hash (e.g., name of visited hash),
We hashed there,
Saigon Hash House Harriers
We screwed all the women,
Buggered all the men,
Drank all the beer,
And we'll do it all again!
Aahlawetta
(to the tune of: "Alouette")
(The songmaster points to various parts of a
"volunteer" harrier's/harriette's anatomy as
the song progresses.)
Chorus
Aahlawetta, gentil Aahlawetta,
Aahlawetta, je te plumerai.
1
Songmaster: How I love her curly hair.
Pack: How I (you) love her curly hair.
Songmaster: Curly hair.
Pack: Curly hair.
Songmaster: Alouett.
Pack: Alouett.
Together: Oh-oh-oh-ohhh. (to Chorus)
2
Songmaster: How I love her bushy brows.
Pack: How I (you) love her bushy brows.
Songmaster: Bushy brows.
Pack: Bushy brows.
Songmaster: Curly hair.
Pack: Curly hair.
Songmaster: Alouett.
Pack: Alouett.
Together: Ohohohohhh.
3
Songmaster: How I love her criss-cross eyes...etc.
(And so it goes adding one more part with each
verse to the anatomy list to test the sobriety and
memory of the songmaster. Tradition would have
the songmaster do a down down for missing a part
during the listing or otherwise screwing up the song.)
Harriette List from Top (with alternates):
1 Curly hair (rat's nest hair)
2 Bushy brows (furrowed brow)
3 Criss-cross eyes (bloodshot eyes)
4 Crooked nose (broken nose)
5 Lubra lips (sucking lips)
6 Two buck teeth (cum-stained teeth)
7 Double chin (drooling chin)
8 Saggy tits (swinging tits)
9 Big pot belly (pregnant belly/big beer belly)
10 Moofy crotch (furry thing)
11 Knobbly knees (skinny legs)
12 Tinea toes (smelly feet)
Harrier List from Top (with alternatives):
1 Thinning hair (balding head)
2 Neanderthal brow (wrinkled brow)
3 Blood-shot eyes (one glass eye)
4 Broken nose (hairy nose)
5 Smelly breath (pukey breath)
6 Rotten teeth (toothy gap)
6 Double chin (Dumbo ears)
7 Hairy chest (skinny chest)
8 Big beer belly (Big pot belly)
9 Tiny dick (micro-penis)
10 Drooping sac (tiny balls)
11 Creaky knees (skinny legs)
12 Tinea toes (smelly feet)
All Things Bright and Beautiful
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
Ancient Hash Song
(to the tune of: "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 annoint your body,
And all he wants in return,
Is the occasional bit of nooky!
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 nooky,
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!"
Are you lonesome tonight?
Is the Hash out of sight?
Are you sorry you strayed from the trail?
Does your throat get real dry,
Underneath the hot sky,
When you think of the beer do you wail?
Do the sores on your feet seem to blister and pus?
Do you gaze down the road and you wish for a bus?
Are your legs filled with pain,
Will you shortcut again,
Tell me fool are you lonesome tonight?
The Ballad Of The Bobbit Hillbillies
(to the tune of: "The Beverly Hillbillies Theme")
(Words in parentheses spoken not sung)
Come and listen to my story 'bout 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, hear?)
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and he wan' go home
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and he wan' go home
Work all night on a drink a'rum
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Stack banana till thee morning come
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
(Chorus)
Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
(Chorus)
It's six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
(Chorus)
A beautiful bunch a'ripe banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Hide thee deadly black tarantula
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
(Chorus)
It's six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot, BUNCH!
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
(Chorus)
Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Come, Mr. Tally Mon, tally me banana
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
(Daylight come and he wan' go home)
The Beery Bunch
(to the tune of: "Brady Bunch Theme Song")
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!
Bestiality's Best
(to the tune of: ""Tie Me Kangaroo Down")
(Take turns leading verses)
Chorus
Bestiality's best, boys, bestiality's best...
(Echo) Shag a wallaby!
Bestiality's best, boys, bestiality's best!
1
Have a screw with a ewe, boys,
Have a screw with a ewe.
(Echo) Shag a wallaby!
Have a screw with a ewe, boys,
Have a screw with a ewe...
(Songmaster:) All together now!
2 Up the rear of a deer...etc.
3 Intercourse with a horse...
4 Chuck your sperm in a worm...
5 Up the hole of a mole...
6 Give some cock to a croc...
7 Shoot your load in a toad...
8 Have a rape with an ape...
9 Get in deep with a sheep...
10 Have a frig with a pig...
11 Give your gerbil some verbal...
12 In the esophagus of an octopus...
13 Down the throat of a goat...
14 Shove your willy up a filly...
15 Stick your rod up a cod...
16 Up the spout of a trout...
17 Put your noodle to a poodle...
18 Be very pleasant to a pheasant...
19 Sixty-nine with a swine...
20 Cunnilingo with a dingo...
21 Up the ass of a bass...
22 Mate a 'gator then fellate her...
23 Up the box of a fox...
24 Have a shag with a stag...
25 Have a screw with a shrew...
26 Lick the clit of a nit...
27 Give a lickin' to a chicken...
28 In the sack with yak....
29 Get a suck from a duck...
30 Have a goose with a moose...
31 Soixante-neuf with a smurf...
32 Sow your oats with some stoats...
33 Go and defile a crocodile...
34 Have a lark with an aardvark...
35 Put your thang in an orangoutang...
36 Make it limp in a chimp...
37 Up the back of a yak...
38 Stick your dork in a stork
39 Rub your clitty on a kitty
40 Rub your twat on an ocelot
41 Fool with the tool of a mule
42 Be very pleasant to a pheasant
43 Ejaculate in a snake
44 Get in deep with a sheep
Bruces' Philosophers Song
>From Monty Python
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.
Can You Walk a Little Way With It In?
(to the tune of: "Billy-Boy")
(Harriers ask and Harriettes answer.)
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 pour 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.
Can you stay upon my horse, With it in, with it in?
Can you stay upon my horse, With it in-nnn?
I can stay upon your horse, And continue intercourse,
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.
Cats On The Rooftops
(to the tune of: "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 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.
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.
Chicago
(to the tune of: "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.
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.
Columbo
(to the tune of: "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.
Cucumber Song
(to the tune of: "Botany Bay")
A restless young lady from Saigon,
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 Saigon we use them as teddies,
'Cause we know that they'll never want head.
Chorus
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.
Chorus
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.
Dickey Louse
(to the tune of: "The Mickey Mouse Club Theme")
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!
The Doggies' Meeting
(to the tune of: "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.
Dough, Ray, Me
(to the tune of: "Do, Re, Mi")
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)
Every
Sperm is Sacred
(From Monty Python)
Songmaster:
There are Jews in the world,
There are Buddhists,
There are Hindus and Mormons and then,
There are those that follow Mohammed,
But I've never been one of them,
I'm a Roman Catholic,
And have been since before I was born,
And the one thing they say about Catholics,
Is they'll take you as soon as you're warm.
You don't have to be a six-footer,
You don't have to have a great brain,
You don't have to have any clothes
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came,
Because,
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Pack:
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Songmaster:
Let the heathen spill theirs,
On the dusty ground,
God shall make them pay for,
Each sperm that can't be found.
Pack:
Every sperm is wanted,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.
Songmaster:
Hindu, Taoist, Mormon,
Spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care.
Harriers:
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
Harriettes:
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Songmaster:
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.
Songmaster:
Every sperm is useful,
Every sperm is fine,
God needs everybody's,
First Hasher: Mine!
Second Hasher: And mine!
Third Hasher: And mine!
Songmaster:
Let the Pagan spill theirs,
O'er mountain, hill, and plain,
God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that's spilt in vain.
Pack:
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is need,
In your neighborhood.
All:
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Leader: Father Abraham had seven sons,
Seven sons had Father Abraham,
And he never laughed,
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 laughed,
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 OOOOH! (hump pelvis forward)
And a AAAAH! (hump pelvis backwaedward)
And a WHEEEE! (turn around, drop pants, moon pack)
Father Damien
(to the tune of: "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 . . .
Gonorrhea
(to the tune of: "Sweet Betsy from Pike")
When I left old Saigon, 'twas just yesterday,
I was given these words by the dear old R.A.,
"Be careful young Hasher, 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.
Chorus
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."
Chorus
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.
Chorus
Into Apocolypse Now I happened to stroll,
To sit and perv on some lovely young doll,
One sat down beside me, 'twas then I awoke,
For the last twenty minutes I'd been ogling a bloke.
Chorus
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."
Chorus
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.
Hare!
(to the tune of: "Hair!" from the musical Hair!)
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!
Hark! The Hashing Horn
(to the tune of: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing")
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
Cursed be he who cuts it short
His a-attempts will come to naught.
For the RA then will pour
Beer on his head for ever more.
To the Saigon Hash, good cheer,
Glory to its love of beer!
Blessed be our sweaty fee-eet
And our love of spaniel meat.
Don't forget to call "On! On!"
When you see three dots have go-one
Hark! The Tiger beer is free
Glory-y to the SH3!
Harriettes, They Play One
(to the tune of: "This Old Man")
Harriers' verses:
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 poke 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,
If they were better looking they'd get some men.
Harriettes, they play eleven,
But all they can handle is only seven.
Harriettes' verses:
Saigon men, they play one,
They think they have all the fun.
(Chorus)
With a knick knack, paddy whack,
give themselves a bone,
Saigon men have sex alone.
Saigon men, they play two,
They can't get it up to screw.
Saigon men, they play three,
They think they get sex for free.
Saigon men, they play four,
They can't get it up to score.
Saigon men, they play five,
They don't have enough sex drive.
Saigon men, they play six,
Little men with little dicks.
Saigon men, they play seven,
Masturbation is their heaven.
Saigon men, they play eight,
They can't get their dicks in straight.
Saigon men, they play nine,
They take theirs up from behind.
Saigon men, they play ten,
Little boys who think they're men.
Has Anybody Seen J.C.?
(to the tune of: "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,
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!
Well, he is camp, he is cool,
He will walk across your swimming pool,
Has anybody seen J.C.?
The Hash House Harriers
(to the tune of: "The Addams Family")
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 daa, Da da da daa,
Da da da da, (snap fingers twice)
Their flatulence is rude and,
Their genitals protrude when,
They're running in the nude in,
The Hash House Harriers.
(Chorus)
They're always shiggy tracking,
>From constantly bushwhacking,
Intelligence they're lacking,
The Hash House Harriers.
The Hashstones
(to the tune of: "The Flintstones")
Hashers, meet the Hashers,
They're the biggest drunks in history.
From the hash of (your hash here),
They're the leaders in debauchery.
Half minds, trailing shiggy through the years.
Watch them, as they down a lot of beers.
(same tune as first four lines)
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!
(Repeat until down down is finished,
or go into "Why are you waiting".)
Have An Erection
(to the tune of: "Hava Nageela")
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 . . .
The Hedgehog Song
(tune - Unknown)
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 damned 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.
Hello Penis
(to the tune of: "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.
Her Left Tit
(to the tune of: "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 . . .
How To Handle A Date (Duet)
(to the tune of: "Que Sera, Sera")
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,
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 be a housewife,
I just want to be a whore.
I'd rather hang in bars,
Turning tricks with men in cars,
'Cause housework is a bore, gor blimey.
I
don't want to do his fucking dishes,
I don't want to iron his fucking shirts.
'Cause if I'm getting laid,
I should be getting paid.
And if I'm not I'm truly getting screwed!
I Saw Three Dots
(to the tune of: "I Saw Three Ships")
I saw three dots of paper white
On Xmas day, On Xmas day
I saw three dots of paper 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 a dozen Beers
On Xmas day, on Xmas day
Then drank I a dozen Beers
On Xmas day in the morning.
So hashers all, rejoice again
On Xmas day, on Xmas day
So hashers all, rejoice again
On Xmas day in the morning
Irian Jaya
(to the tune of: "Mull of Kintyre")
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.
I've Got The Clap Again
(to the tune of: "Those Were The Days")
Once upon a time I Hashed in Saigon.
Often I would drink a beer or two.
Each week I would while away the hours,
Waiting for another run to do.
Chorus:
I've got the clap again,
I really must refrain
>From Underground
And Apocalypse Now.
I've got those pills to use,
I must stay off the booze.
I've got the clap
Oh, yes, I've got the clap
Every Sunday evening I'd go Hashing,
Sometimes I'd shortcut along the way.
But each time I'd stay late at the On-On,
Where I'd hear another Hasher say...
(Chorus)
Once to the Hash came a thing of beauty,
It was quite an unusual sight to see.
Something about this (girl/guy) was different.
Must have been the tattoos on (her/his) knee.
(Chorus)
We went to together to her/his to home that evening,
Hoped that this could be a regular thing.
But then just one week later at the on-on,
I took a piss and felt that familiar sting...
(Chorus)
Now our Doctor Pox has got a clinic,
With a special section for the Hash.
So that we can have our weekly check-ups,
And find out just what caused that nasty rash.
(Chorus)
[dedicated to the memory of Dr Pox, who recently departed our fair shores to return to wherever broken-down Hashers go to. Melbourne, we think.]
Life Presents A Dismal Picture
(to the tune of: "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing")
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.
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!
(Chorus)
Let's have a drink, a drink, a drink
To Lilly the pink, the pink, the pink
The saviour of the human race
For she invented Medicinal Compound
To make you fuck with style and grace.
Old Mr Morgan had a very small organ
He could hardly raise a stand
So she gave him Medicinal Compound
And now he comes in either hand.
Young Mr Dooley had very small goolics
They were the size of processed peas
So she gave him Medicinal Compound
And now they hang down below his knees.
Poor Mrs. Walker had tiny knockers
They hardly showed beneath her blouse
So she gave her Medicinal Compound
Now they milk her with the cows.
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!
Lloyd George
(to the tune of: "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)
[supplied for the benefit of Vaporub, who can never remeber the words to the second verse.]
Lumberjack Song
(From Monty Python)
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,
I sleep all night and I work all day.
Chorus- repeat 1 in third person
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shopping,
Have buttered scone for tea.
Chorus- repeat 2 and 1 in third person
I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers,
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.
Chorus- repeat 3 and 1 in third person
I cut down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspenders and a bra,
I wish I were a girlie,
Just like my old papa.
Masturbata
(to the tune of: "The Macarena")
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)
(to the tune of: "Alouette)
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)
Harriers:
How I love to...
...Yank my chain
...Flog my log
...Lope my mule
... Buff the banana
...Whip my lizard
...Beat my meat
...Pull my pony
Harriettes:
...Swat my twat
...Tease the beaver
...Stroke my snatch
...Tap my gap
...Use three fingers
...Moan and jerk
...Rub my nub
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:
Hide the salami
Drive it deep
Bump and grind
Pump and hump
Mayor Of Bayswater's Daughter
(to the tune of: " The Ash Grove")
(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 macrame
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.
If 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.
The Mayor of Bayswater’s daughter (2)
The Mayor of Bayswater
He had such a pretty daughter,
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees.
Chorus:
And the hairs, and the hairs
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doo,
Hang down to her knees. (How many??)
One black one, one white one,
And one with a bit of shite on.
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doo hang down to her knees!
I’ve felt it, I’ve smelt it,
Its just like a bit of velvet,
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doo ……..etc
I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it,
I’ve lain right in between it,
And the hairs on her dicky-di-doo………etc
She came from Glamorgan,
With a cunt like a barrel organ,
And the hairs…………….etc
If she were my daughter,
I’d have them cut shorter,
And the hairs……..etc
She lived on a mountain,
And fucked like a bloody fountain,
And the hairs on…………..etc
She stayed on a cattle ranch,
And came like a bloody avalanche,
And the hairs …………..etc