REFRAIN: He'll satisfy, and leave them sore. For six long miles I've been real thirsty, No six-packs on trail I found. For on this hash I'm bound to tumble, I have no beer to help me now. REFRAIN: He has no beer to help him now. I have hashed for hours in some deep valley, Many falses I have found. Someday I may learn to skip the buses, To stay at camp and fuck around. REFRAIN: He'll stay at camp and fuck around! So it's fare thee well to my old liver, I don't expect it'll be the same. For I've got to do so many down-downs, Perhaps I'll get a new hash name REFRAIN: Perhaps he'll get a new hash name. A VIEW OF HASH A Poem by Flamin’ Moe, Anchorage HHH Family of the foot are we Roots, tradition, history Built from games so long ago We’ve flourished more than you could know On every land, across every sea Our people gather just to be We are unique and very special Some are crazy, some are mellow Some are hiding from growing old Getting boring, or what “da man” done told The reasons change with every day I don’t know why, that’s just our way I prefer to think that we gather ‘Cause we like when we’re together A group of spirits who feel the warmth When close to others whom support
When you pull out your tool, She knows just what to do If your prick is big or small She'll deep throat 'em all Splashing on her nose With my big fat pulsing hose James thinks he's first But we all know That Biloxi quenched her thirst! Hey! KEEP ON HASHING (REGARDLESS OF 1997) Melody - 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.
ONCE A BLOODY HASHMAN Melody - Waltzing Matilda Once a bloody Hashman fell into a shiggy-pit, Tripped on the edge of a benjo ditch, And he hummed and he stank as he swallowed all that shiggy-pit, I'll never see Beer Near, said he. CHORUS: Short-cutting bastard, short-cutting bastard, I'll never short-cut again, said he. And he stank as he sank and wallowed in that shiggy-pit, Who'll come a'running the Hash with me? Up jumped a papa-san screaming most hysterically, You can't run through my cane, said he, That's my jolly shiggy-pit you've got in your underpants, That will cost you tak-san yen, one, two, three. Out climbed the Hashman, dripping very smellily, You'll never get your kitty from me, And he squelched and he oozed as the papa-san he ran away, Who'll come a'running the Hash with me? Now his voice may be heard As he runs the trail so all-alone, Please, please, please blow your whistle for me, But the pack, far ahead, is hiding very craftily, Back to your shiggy-pit and let us be. ONLY REAL MEN RUN THE SOUTHSIDE Melody - Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland By Malibog, Angeles City HHH Lacy things, have gone missing, Didn't ask her permission, They're wearing her clothes, her silk panty-hose, And running 'round in womens' underwear. CHORUS: Okay guys, if you wanna, You can dress like Madonna, Put on some eyeshade, make a SouthSide parade, Go running 'round in womens' underwear. On ET, there is a teddy, Little straps, like spaghetti, It hugs him real tight like Primo's handcuffs at night, He's running 'round in womens' underwear.
Well, this trail was not hard to track But I noticed when I was looking back A hasher had gone astray. He said, “I know these hares and where they’ll go, We’ll be way ahead of the pack, you know.” So I followed. Surely this guy knows the way. But as the pack faded away, His confidence fell to decay. I thought we were so shrewd, But now we were really screwed! So I turned back for a trail more true, I was cussin’ that hasher and his mother too. Yes, I was singin’ short-cutter’s blues The day I found the hash. And we were shouting... CHORUS Twiggy shiggy, this swamp’s a biggie, But I plunged right in just like a barn yard piggy And sank down to my balls. The trail finally took some higher ground But a thorny vine my ankle found And like Humpty, I had a great fall. So now my leg was streaked with blood As it flowed down through the dried-on mud, But I guessed this was not rare ‘Cause no one seemed to care. And as I hashed on past shrub and tree I developed my philosophy That a shiggy trail’s the trail for me The day I found the hash And we were shouting.... CHORUS
There's an oversexed lady named Whyte, Who insists on a dozen a night. A fellow named Cheddar, Had the brashness to wed her_ His chance of survival is slight. There was a young man from Bengal, Who claimed he had only one ball. But two little bitches, Pulled down this man's breeches, And proved he had nothing at all. What with female Marines, Sergeant Trilling, Finds his life in the Corps more fulfilling. In the daytime, his skill, Is close-order drill, While at night, it's in close-ardor drilling! Cried exuberant Sheik Fahzee Dik, "The E Vitamin has a great kick! My harem brood, Are frequently screwed, For it pricks up the shtick in my mick!" A physical fellow named Fisk, Could screw at a rate very brisk. So fast was his action, The Fitzgerald contraction, Would shrink up his rod to a disk. There was a young lady at sea, Who complained that it hurt her to pee. Said the brawny old mate, "That accounts for the state, Of the cook and the captain and me." An inventor of genius named Moore, Made himself a mechanical whore. But he failed when he wooed her, She unscrewed as he screwed her, And her clit clattered down to the floor. A self-centered sugar named Perkins, Would work off her urges with gherkins. Until, with a skid, Inside her one slid, And pickled her internal workin's.
If you ever get so low, That you don’t know which way to go, Come on and take a walk in my shoes, Never worry ‘bout a thing, Got the world on a string, ‘Cause I’ve got the cure for all of my blues. I take a look at my enormous penis, And my troubles start a-meltin’ away, I take a look at my enormous penis, And my happy times are comin’ to stay, I gotta sing and I dance, When I glance in my pants, And I’m feelin’ like a sunshiny day, I take a look at my enormous pe-e-e-nis, And a-everything is goin’ my way (happy whistle interlude) I take a look at my enormous penis, And my troubles start a-meltin’ away, I take a look at my enormous penis, And my happy times are comin’ to stay, Yeah I got great big amounts, In the place where it counts, And I’m feelin’ like a sunshiny day, I take a look at my enormous pe-e-e-nis, And a-everything is goin’ my way, (My trouser monster) And a-everything is goin’ my way, (My meat is murder) And a-everything is goin’ my way, (Size doesn’t matter) Everything is goin’ my waaaaaaay, Yum. FANNY BAY Melody - Botany Bay Contributed by Zippy If you ever go across the sea to Darwin, Then maybe at the closing of the day, You will see the local harlots at their business, And watch the sun go down on Fanny Bay.
Aye, me name is Joe, And I work on a ship with cutlery, Got a wife, three kids, all brats, And the Cap’n he says to me, He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy? I says, No. He says, Then kick this sailor with your left foot. Aye, me name is Joe, And I work on a ship with cutlery, Got a wife, three kids, all brats, And the Cap’n he says to me, He says, Joe, arrrrr ye busy? I says, No. He says, Then kill this sailor with your teeth. Arrr, arr arr arr arr, Arr arr arr arr arr arr arr arr-rr-rr, Arr arr arr, arr arr, arr arr, Arr, arr arr-rr arr arr arr arr, Arr arr, Arr, arrrrr arr arr-arr? Arr arr, AYE! SINGING IN THE RAIN (CHIANGMAI PRAYER) Melody - Singing in the Rain (Some say this song is supposed to end with group mooning; others insist it's supposed to end with group farting. If you can get a group of hashers to fart all at once, you're a better song master than I . . .) CHORUS: Ah-zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah-dah, Zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah, zuppa-dah-dah. We're singing in the rain, Just singing in the rain, What a glorious feeling, We're hap! hap! happy again, Verse/action: Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Arms out! Repeat chorus adding new line and action each time: Hands together! Thumbs up! Elbows bent! Shoulders back! Chest out! Stomach in! Ass out! Knees together! Heels together! Toes together!
That handsome young copper he cursed and he swore, He called that young maiden a dirty old whore, Down at the park you can still see him sit, With a sign 'round his neck saying BLINDED BY SHIT! MAGGIE MAY Melody - Maggie May Oh, gather round you sailor boys, and listen to my plea, 'Cause when you've heard it you will pity me. 'Cause I was a Goddamn fool, in the port of Liverpool, The first time that I came home from the sea. CHORUS: Oh, my darling Maggie May, They have taken her away, And no more down Lime Street will she roam. For the judge he guilty found her, for robbing a homeward bounder, That dirty, robbin', no good Maggie May. I was a sailor bound for home, all the way from Sierra Leone, And two pound ten a month had been my pay. As I jingled in my tin, I was sadly taken in, By the lady of the name of Maggie May. When I steered into her, I just hadn't a care, I was cruisin' up and down ol' Canning Place. She was dressed in a gown so fine, like a frigate of the line, And I bein' a sailorman, I gave chase. She gave me a saucy nod, and I like a farmer's clod, Let her take me line abreast in tow. And under all plain sail, we ran before the gale, And to the Crow's Nest Tavern we did go. Next morning when I awoke, I found that I was broke, No trousers, coat, or wallet could I find. And when I asked her where, she said, "My dear young sir, You'll find them in the pawnshop, number nine." To the pawnshop I did go, no trousers could I find, So the cops they came and took this girl away. Oh, you thieving Maggie May, you robbed me of my pay, It'll pay your fare right out to Botany Bay. She was chained and sent away, from Liverpool one day, The lads they cheered as she sailed down the bay. And every sailor lad, he only was too glad, They'd sent the old tart out to Botany Bay.
CHORUS: Giddy-I-A, giddy-I-O, Giddy-I-A, for the one-eyed Reilly, Rough 'em up, stuff'em up, balls and all, Play it on your old bass drum. Her hair was black, her eyes were blue, The colonel, the major, and the captain sought her, The regimental goat and drummer boy too, But they never had a fuck with old Reilly's daughter. Lack O'Flanagan is my name, I'm the king of copulation, Drinking beer my claim to fame, Fucking women my occupation. Walking through the town one day, Who should I meet but old Reilly's daughter, Never a word to her did say, But, "Don't you think we really oughter?" Up the stairs and into bed, There I cocked my left leg over, Marianne was smiling then, Smiling still when the fuck was over. Fucked her till her tits were flat, Filled her up with soapy water, She won't get away with that, If she doesn't have twins then she really oughter. Suddenly footsteps on the stairs, Old man Reilly bent on slaughter, Bloody great pistol in his hand, Looking for the one who fucked his daughter. He fired the pistol at my head, Missed me by an inch and a quarter, Hit his daughter Marianne, Right in the place where she passes water. I grabbed old Reilly by the hair, Shoved his head in a bucket of water, Rammed his pistol up his ass, A damn sight quicker than I fucked his daughter. Old man Reilly's dead and gone, Shall we bury him? Not fucking likely, We'll nail him to the shithouse door, And there we'll bugger him twice nightly.
For forty days and forty nights He sailed the broad Atlantic, Columbo and his scurvy crew For want of a screw were frantic. And when they got to Yankee land They spied a Yankee harlot When they came her cunt was lily-white When they left her cunt was scarlet. With lustful shout they ran about And practiced copulation And when they left to sail away They doubled the population. And when his men pulled out again, And reckoned all their score up, They'd caught a pox from every box That syphilized all Europe. DAVY COCKHEAD Melody - Davy Crockett Down in the valley where the black grass grows, There lives a lady without any clothes. Along came a man with a cap and a stick, Down went his pants, and up went his prick. CHORUS: Davy, Davy Cockhead, King of the wild fuckers. Three months past and all was well, Six months past, oh, what a swell, Nine months pass, oh, what a shock! Out came a baby with a nine-inch cock. CHRISTOPHER ROBIN Melody - Christopher Robin Little boy kneels at the foot of the stairs, Clutched in his hands is a tuft of white hairs, Oh, my, just fancy that, Christopher Robin castrated the cat. Little boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Lily-white hands are caressing his head, Oh, my, couldn't be worse, Christopher Robin is fucking his nurse.
Do your tits go squish when you poke them like this? Do they feel just like a slimy jelly fish? Does your man's pecker stand when he holds them in his hand? Do your tits go squish? Are your tits real hard? Could you use them as a guard? Do your nipples poke through your pink leotard? When its wet and cold do they stand out proud and bold Are your tits real hard? Do your tits have hair? Do people stop and stare when you wear a french braid down to your underwear? Do people think your breasts are like your father's chest? Do your tits have hair? Are your tits really real? Did it take them long to heal? Are they silicone or saline filled? Do the boys hearts race when you shake them in their face? Are your tits really real? If your tits are teeny weenie or too big for your bikini no matter how they look no matter how they feel be glad that you got_em cuz you know the boys will want'em - Your TITS TITS TITS
In an old Chapel on Green Mountain they prayed, In the Hashers favorite setting. The church bell chimed till it rang sixteen times For each screw in the Tibia and Fibula. The legend lives on from Monte Sano on down Of the big street they call Bob Wallace'. Wallace, they said, never gives up her dead When the Rains of December come early! THE HASHERS IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD Melody - The People In Your Neighborhood (Sesame Street) Oh, who are the Hashers in your neighborhood, In your neighborhood, in your neighborhood. Say who are the hashers in your neighborhood-- The people that you see each day? Oh, the hare always runs like a snail Through rain or snow or sleet or hail. They'll run, and run the whole day through To lay a shiggy trail for you. Cause a hare is a person in your neighborhood, In your neighborhood, he's in your neighborhood. A hasher is a person in your neighborhood-- A person that you see each day. Oh, an R A is brave it's said. His Rod, it's a shiny red. If there's a horny bitch about. Well, He'll be sure to whip it out! Cause a hare is a person in your neighborhood, In your neighborhood, he's in your neighborhood. And an R A is a person in your neighborhood-- Well they're the hashers that you meet When you're running down the street They're the hashers that you meet each day! Oh, DogMan is a hasher too. He'd much rather run than screw. Always throwing flower down. Wearing nothing but a frown!
And where have the beer pitchers gone, long time passing? Where have the beer pitchers gone, long time ago? Where have the beer pitchers gone? Gone to hashers, every one! When will they ever leave, oh when will they ever leave? WHO'LL STOP THE RAIN? Melody - Same (J.C. Fogerty) Long as I remember The rain been comin' down. Clouds of myst'ry pourin' Shiggy all over the ground. Good men through the checks, Tryin' to find the trail; And I’m haring, Still I’m haring, Who'll stop the rain. I went down to an old barn, Seekin' shelter from the storm. Caught up in the stable, I watched the pack on on.. Two month plans and new trails, Published in web chains. And I’m haring, Still I’m haring Who'll stop the rain. Heard the singers bawdry', How we cheered for more. The crowd had circled together, Tryin' to keep warm. Still the rain kept pourin', Fallin' on my ears. And I’m haring, Still I’m haring Who'll stop the rain. WHY DO DRUNKS SUDDENLY APPEAR? Melody – Close to You Why do drunks suddenly appear, Everytime you are near? Just like me, they long to be, Fucked by you . . . Why do stars fall down from the sky, Everytime you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, Fucked by you . . . On the day that you were born the hashers got together, And decided to create a dream come true, So they sprinkled flour in your hair And golden lager in your eyes of blue . . . That is why, all the boys in town, Follow you, all around, Just like me, they long to be, Fucked by you . . .