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A Few of My Favorite Things Addicted to the Hashnet Ancient Hash Song Autohashers (Flintstone Version) Bagpipe Song Bengali One So Long Bike Week Bimbo Bright Eyes Can't Hash Today Creak Goes the Muscle Oh Daylight Come Deep in the Heart of Texas Drunken Hasher Europe Final Down-Down Give a Little Whistle Gunga's Song Handsome Hasher Hare! Harriette the Tattooed Hasher Harriettes, They Play One Has Anybody Seen R J Hasher is Smarter Hasher Men (and Women) Hasher's Lament Hash House Harrier Mountain Hashin' Hashin' USA |
Headed Out to Orlando He's Got the Clap Again I Am a Hasher, How 'Bout You? I Don't Wanna Hear a Song I Love to Have a Beer With ________ I've Got the Clap Again I've Only Half a Brain Jungle Smell Keep on Hashing Last Hash Run Like a Geezer who has Sinned Loneliest Hare Mooning in the Sun Morgan's Pies Mount Bonnell My Big Banana (two versions) 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 People in Pink Tutus Rap it Up She Ain't Gonna Fuck No More Shiggy Short Cutter |
Short Cutter's Rhapsody Sixteen Miles Song to Cuming Mutha Spiders in My Hair Suckanna Super Hasher Swamp-Ass Swilligan's Island Thank God I'm a Hashing Girl The Beer That I Drink at the Hash Three Visiting Hashers Tweet-Whistle Twelve Days of Interhash Twinkie, Twinkie, Little Hasher Two Hashers (Harriettes) Uneasy Hasher Wanky's Beers We Go Hashing We Love to Hash Were You Lonesome Tonight? While Wading Through Shiggy Whining Poem 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 |
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Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Heard it through the Grapevine By 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 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 to the top of the Page Melody - Meet the Flintstones By Cold Box, Magic City H3 Hashers, autohashers, They're the wankers who refuse to run, When the--pack yells 'on-on'!, They are burnin' rubber,one by one! Riding--high and dry inside a car, Makes the--trail not seem so very far! Drive drive, drive drive drive drive, Drive drive drive drive drive drive drive drive, Drive drive drive drive drive, Drive drive drive drive drive drive !!! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 . . . Back to the top of the Page 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 Back to the top of the Page BY BOLLOX & BIG BOLLOX FOR BOURNE VALLEY HHH RUN 4. 2ND JUNE 1997 GOT HOME EARLY FROM WORK, PULLED ON MY SHORTS AND SHIRT LOOKING FORWARD TO A HASH LIKE THIS, ALL WEEK THE WIFE ALLOWS ONLY ONE NIGHT ON THE PISS BRIGHT EYES, NOT AT ALL TIRED BRIGHT EYES, HAD PLENTY OF SLEEP NOW I’M ON THE WAY TO FREEFOLK I CAN HARDLY HOLD IT IN, BRIGHT EYES HASHED UP A HILL OF CHALK, FORCED TO SLOW TO A WALK NOSE UP THE BUM OF THE ONE IN FRONT, TIGHT SHORTS SOME BLOKE DON’T PUT UP WITH MY WIFE’S BIG RUMP GREEN EYES, BURNING WITH ENVY GREEN EYES, THO’ JEALOUSY’S A SIN HOW CAN MY WIFE’S ARSE BE SO WIDELY AND THIS ONE BE SO THIN, GREEN EYES STAYED MISERABLE ALL THE WAY ROUND, WENT BACK TO THE WATERSHIP DOWN SORROWS WERE QUICKLY DROWNED IN DOWN-DOWNS, WASHED OUT I GOT AS SILLY AS A CLOWN RED EYES, SAME SHADE AS FIRE, RED EYES PISSED AS A FART LIKE A LITTLE PAIR OF AA ROADMAPS AS I STAGGERED ROUND AND ROUND, RED EYES HORNY FROM THE BEER I SWALLOWED, I CAUGHT SIGHT OF THE BUM I’D FOLLOWED COULDN’T RESIST BUT TO GIVE IT A STROKE, IT TURNED ROUND AND I WAS FACE TO FACE WITH A BLOKE BLACK EYES, BURNING LIKE FFFFURY BLACK EYES, BROKEN TEETH AND NOSE NEXT TIME I FANCY A SNEAKY HANDFUL I’LL CHECK THE FRONT END FIRST, BLACK EYES Back to the top of the Page Melody - Scotsman's Kilt? Adapted from a Clancy Brothers tune by unknown hashers Dear Hash I sing this song for to tell you of my plight, At the time of writing this, I am not a pretty sight, Me body is all black and blue; me face a deathly gray, And I hope you'll understand why I can't hash with you today. I was workin' on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear, And throwin' 'em down from such a height was not a good idea. The foreman wasn't very pleased, he bein' an awful sod, He said I'd have to take them down the ladder in me hod. Now shiftin' all them bricks by hand seemed so awful 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. Now when I untied the rope, the barrel it fell like lead, And clingin' tightly to the rope I started up instead. I shot up like a rocket, and to my dismay I found, That halfways up, I met the bloody barrel comin' down. Now the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground it sped, And when I reached the top I struck the pulley with me head. I still clung on though numbed and shocked from this almighty blow, And the barrel spilled out half the bricks fourteen floors below. Now when the bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor, I then outweighed the barrel and it started up once more. Clingin' tightly to the rope then, I headed for the ground, And I fell among the broken bricks that were scattered all around. As I lay moanin' on the ground, I thought I'd passed the worst, And the barrel struck the pulley wheel and didn't the bottom burst. A shower of bricks came down on me, sure I didn't have a hope, And as I was losin' consciousness, I let go the bloody rope. Now the barrel being heavier, it started down once more, And landed right across me as I lay there on the floor. I broke three ribs and me left arm, and I can only say, That I hope you understand why I can't hash today with you today. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Green Grow the Rushes O 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 Back to the top of the Page Melody - Drunken Sailor by Hazukashii, Seoul Southside 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - America, from "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! Back to the top of the Page Melody - The Final Countdown, by 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 . . . Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Pretty Woman 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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? Back to the top of the Page Melody - Man Smart, Woman Smarter (generic calypso melody) 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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' Back to the top of the Page Melody - Big Rock Candy Mountain (found on the "O Brother Where Art Thou" soundtrack) Contributed by Babe Thruster, GCH3 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 Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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 Back to the top of the Page Modified by Davey Crotchit for the Seoul Southside H3 and YKH3 Melody - Those Were the Days Once upon a time there was a Hasher, Who ran the hash only to get laid, You'd see hime staying late at every down-down, But about this hasher you'd here someone say: CHORUS: He's got the clap again, He really should refrain, From Nicklebys, the Hill and Stompers too. He's got the pills to use, He must lay off the booze, He's got the clap, oh yes, he's got the clap. He finally found a girl he thought was different, It must have been the tattoos on her boobs, She sipped her beer through rosy choo-choo lips, And over this hasher he began to drool, but... Chorus She short-cut trail and he short-cut after, Hoping that tonight he'd be in luck, And when he heard "On-On" from the bushes, He knew that they were finally going to fuck, now... CHORUS That night he walked her home through Itaewan, They arranged that this would be a regular thing; But one week later at the Down-Down, He took a piss and felt that telltale sting, now... CHORUS Back to the top of the Page Melody - Yankee Doodle Dandy By Catwoman, Daytona 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! Back to the top of the Page Melody - Toys-R-Us Jingle (I Don't Wanna Grow Up . . . ) By Cold Box, Magic City H3 and Soft Taco, Birmingham H3 I don't wanna hear a song I've already heard, Yeah, I get it, he's a piss pot, Alouette's a French bird! You never worked in Chicago, that's all bullshit!! So go ahead and show us your tits----- No, she's got too much class, perhaps she'll show us her ass?!!? I'd rather see her thong than sing a hash song!!! Back to the top of the Page Melody - I love to Have a Beer With Duncan (Slim Dusty) By Hazukashii 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. . . Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - If I Only Had a Brain (From 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - I Don't Want to Join the Army 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! Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 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 Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - From 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Same 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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 . . . Back to the top of the Page 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. Melody - Sugar by the Archies By Cold Box from Magic City H3 and Penalty Box Shiggy------ This trail is so shiggy------ Thorns and limbs scratching up my skin, A piece of wood sticking outta my shin!! Bloody------ My legs are all bloody------ And I've also gotta take a piss!! Somehow I know I'll be drinking for this!! Ivy------ Ran through some poison ivy------ I'm highly allergic, too!! It's still tangled up around my shoe!! Muddy------ My feet are so muddy------ Brown hashin' shoes have a permanent stain!! From running through ungodly terrain!! Big snake------ I just saw a big snake------ He's over there behind that tree!! Waiting to bite the shit outta me!! Redrum (or murder)------ That hare I'm gonna redrum------ He better run really fast!!! If I catch him I will kill his ass!! (when singing "redrum" hold up and bend finger) Hashing------ These are the joys of hashing------ Bunch o' drunk running fools!!! How can you have a club without any rules!?!?!?!! Back to the top of the Page 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!" Back to the top of the Page Melody - Bohemian Rhapsody 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. . . . Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 . . . Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - My Girl Composed by Orchid-Gina of the South Dakota Big Heads H3 I get Swamp-Ass on a sunny day, Even when it's cold outside, I got the month of May. (Chorus) I guess you'd say Hashing makes me feel this way, Swamp-Ass, Swamp-Ass, Swamp-Ass, Talkin' bout Swamp-Ass. Swamp-Ass! I get so much moisture in this crack of mine, The best performance undies in the world won't dry up my behind. (Chorus) My cheeks get more slimy the further I run, Should I get some "Depends" for my soaking bum? (Chorus) Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Thank God I'm a Country Boy, by 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! Back to the top of the Page Melody - The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring, from 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. 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Tit-Willow, from 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!" Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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? Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page Melody - Those Were the Days by Hazukashii and Davey Crotchit Headed out on a road trip. There's a Hash that we can't miss When we get there, they'll really flip Step on the gas! All the beer that we can drink Man your hash shoes really stink GM, that was a real-ly shig-gy trail you laid back there Lots of hills and shiggy too Followed up by lots of brew Shortcutters like us were really screwed We love to hash Back to the top of the Page Melody - Are You Lonesome Tonight? by Hazukashii, Seoul Southside 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? Back to the top of the Page Melody - On Top of Old Smokey By Chlorine Will Kill Anything from the So Happy It's Tuesday H3 While wading through shiggy All covered in muck I lost the hash trail Cause you f*ckers suck! Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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 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.....) Back to the top of the Page 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! Back to the top of the Page> 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. Back to the top of the Page 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! |
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