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Quit your bitchin’
We’re glad you’ve finally shut up,
You’ve finally quit your bitchin’,
So drink your beer, get out of here,
And get back in the kitchen
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Stuff your butt
To the tune of Row, row, row your boat.
Stuff, stuff, stuff your butt,
Stuff your butt with cream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is a wet dream
Suck, suck, suck my cock,
Give me screaming skull,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a ball!
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Yesterday
To the tune of Yesterday.
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 are made of lead,
Wish I had stayed at home instead
Why I ran that hash,
Was so rash,
But what the heck,
Yes, now it is clear,
I’m a mere,
Physical wreck
Bloodshot eyes,
And my tongue it is twice its normal size,
It,s at times like this I realise,
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,
Running seemed a healthy game to play,
Now my body is in disarray,
Oh I went hashing yesterday
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Zuppata (I’m singing in the rain)
Solo, chorus:
I’m singin’ in the rain,
Just singin’ in the rain,
What a glorious feeling,
I’m hap-hap-happy again
Call: Arms out
Response: Arms out!
Chorus
Call: Arms out
Response: Arms out!
Call: Thumbs down
Response: Thumbs down!
Chorus
Additional verses:
Elbows back
Chest out
Stomach in
Arse out
Knees together
Toes together
Chin up
Finish:
Glory glory hallelujah
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Walking down Canal street
Walking down Canal Street,
Knockin’ every door,
Goddamn son of a bitch,
I couldn’t find a whore
I finally found a whore,
She was rather thin,
Goddamn son of a bitch,
I couldn’t get it in
I finally got it in,
And worked it round and round,
Goddamn son of a bitch,
I couldn’t get it out
I finally got it out,
And it was red and sore,
The moral of this story is,
To never fuck a whore
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The wild hasher (a goodbye song)
To the tune of The Wild Rover.
I flew into …, 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 its no nay never, no nay no never no more,
Shall I play the wild hasher nay never no more
I took out my checkbook all shiney & bright,
The hash-cash’s eyes they lit up with delight,
He said “gladly you’re welcome you as one of our rank,
As soon as your check has been cleared by the bank”
Chorus
They sold me a T-shirt at exorbitant price,
Then we went hashing, ’twas ever so nice,
At the last checkpoint we lost three without trace,
And back at the On on we all got shit faced
Chorus
I’ve hashed the world over, places far and near,
I fondle the women and drink all the beer,
And now I’m returning with many to tell,
Of checkbacks unending and shortcuts through hell
Chorus
Now all I have left is a beer stained T-shirt,
And my sneakers are covered in shiggy & dirt,
My wife she has left me because of the clap,
The right time for me to leave this terrible trap
Chorus
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Sound off
Call: I don’t know but I’ve been told
Response: Hashers shorts are filled with gold
Call: People say we’re primitive
Response: We say it’s the only way to live
Call: Run and drink in our underwear
Response: Following the trail set by the Hare
Call: Checking left and checking right
Response: This damn trails’ gotten outta sight
Call: Back check, what the heck turn ’round
Response: This damn Hare is goin’ down
Call: Got his shorts down around his knobby knees
Response: His ass and cock swinging in the breeze
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She’ll be puffin’
To the tune of 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
Alternate 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
She’ll be revving like a Harley when she cums
She’ll be whooping like a monkey when she cums
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A song for Christmas
To the tune of the chorus of Santa Claus is coming to town.
You better watch out,
You better not cry,
You better not pout, I’m telling you why,
Santa Claus is dead