Tune: (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66
Lyrics: Splat
Tune: The Ode to Joy
Lyrics: Splat
How much beer has he been drinking?
He is looking really lit.
As we sing here aren't we thinking,
"Do we really give a shit?"
Who's this wanker, so unseemly,
That his mom would surely frown?
Grab that beer and hold it firmly,
Drink it, drink it, down down down!
Tune: The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Lyrics: Splat
Based on an idea from Thurston Bowel the Turd. Thanx Thurston!
Short version (suitable for down-downs):
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
Chorus:
Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, drink it down down down!
Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, drink it down down down!
Longer version:
In the shiggy, the wild shiggy, the Hasher's lost the trail.
In the shiggy, the wild shiggy, the Hasher's lost the trail.
Chorus:
Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, Hashing all week long!
Ooo weee ooo ooo weee ooo ooo ooo, Hashing all week long!
At the beer check, the blessed beer check, the Hasher shortcuts past. (repeat)
In the shower, the public shower, the Hasher beats his meat.
In the Circle, the drunken Circle, the Hasher drinks it down.
In the gutter, the slimy gutter, the Hasher pukes tonight.
In the Hash House, the rowdy Hash House, the Hasher sings this song.
Tune: When Johnny comes marching home
Lyrics: Splat
This Hasher's been whacking off again, hurrah, hurrah!
This Hasher's been whacking off again, hurrah, hurrah!
This Hasher's been whacking off again,
So give him a drink or he'll start it again,
And we'll keep him busy,
Drinking it down, down, down!
Tune: The Monster Mash
Lyrics: Splat (with some help from Little Johnson)
Note: Parentheses indicate backing vocals
I was walking through the Park, on Halloween.
When I beheld a drunken scene.
A band of Gypsies had gathered there,
And suddenly without a care...
(They did the Hash) They did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) They were drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
(ahh oooooo) They had their Sacred Missal, books one and two,
(ahh oooooo) And their tasty Bucket caught more than a few,
(ahh oooooo) And there presiding over this crazy thing,
(ahh oooooo) Was Rongjon their beloved Gypsy King!
(They did the Hash) They did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) They were drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
(ahh oooooo) Now I followed carefully along their trail.
(ahh oooooo) To some their antics were beyond the pale.
(ahh oooooo) The Bucket's delights had my head in a roar,
(ahh oooooo) And Bigfoot's cooking had me begging for more!
(He did the Hash) I did the Gypsies Hash!
(The Gypsies Hash) It was their 500th Hash!
(500th Hash) I was drunk in a flash!
(Drunk in a flash) It was the Gypsies Hash!
Thurston: Mmmm...bucket goooood! Bucket goood!
Down Thurston, you impetuous young boy.
Thurston: Bucket goooood . . .
Tune: Amazing Grace
Lyrics: Splat (with some help from Thurston Bowel the Turd)
A - maz - ing beer,
A taste profound,
A whole keg just for thee!
The pack is lost,
But home you've found,
The beer check you can see
Tune: The Battle Hymn of the Republic
Lyrics: Splat (with some help from Thurston Bowel the Turd)
His eyes have seen the horr-or of the steepness of the trail,
His ears have heard the whin-ing of the whing-ing Hash-ers tale,
His lips have felt the pas-sing of this na-tion's fin-est ale,
This Ha-sher's done it all!
Chorus:
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager!
Now drink it down, down, down!
For wearers of new shoes:
His feet will feel the damp-ness of the clean foot-ware he's worn
His soul will sense the shame and wish that he had not been born
All of him will suffer pain like shiggy's sharpest thorn
This Ha-sher's worn new shoes!
Tune: O Tannenbaum
Lyrics: Splat
O Harriet, O Harriet,
As all the guys will witness:
O Harriet, O Harriet,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
You are so lovely, you break our hearts,
But you sure do swell our other parts!
O Harriet, O Harriet,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
O Harriet, O Harriet,
She's the model of fitness.
O Harriet, O Harriet,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
You need a kiss? Well, that's all right.
Just don't ask Thurston, what a fright!
O Harriet, O Harriet,
You fill our pants with stiffness!
Tune: The Itsy-Bitsy Spider
Lyrics: Splat
The tired East Bay Hasher went trudging up the hill,
Stopped at the Beer Check and there he drank his fill,
And when the trail was over, his shoes were muddy brown.
Though he was drunk already, he had to drink it down, down, down, down...
Tune: God Save the Queen (My Country Tis of Thee)
Lyrics: Splat
All Gypsies hear our call!
Raise glass and stand up tall!
Join us and sing.
For drunken revelry,
And no more chastity,
We drink our toast to thee:
"God Save the King!"
Tune: O How I Love Jesus
Lyrics: Splat
O how I love Anthrax,
O how I love Anthrax,
O how I love Anthrax,
You used it to lay trail!
O how I love Herpes, ...
You gave the Herp to me!
O how I love the Clap, ...
At least I did get laid!
O how I love the Lyme, ...
At least I did get sucked!
O how I love Rabies, ...
That dog was sure surprised!
O how I love Juandice, ...
My liver's not dead yet!
O how I love DTs, ...
It's time to drink some more!
O how I love buckshot, ...
That farmer sure hates me!
O how I love PO, ...
It spreads from hand to dick!
O how I love blueballs, ...
She said, "Let's just be friends!"
O how I love back aches, ...
He said, "I'm just too drunk!"
I how I love the AIDS, ...
I got it from your wife!
O how I love Tourette's, ...
Fuck shit piss cock ass!
O how I love the 'Rhoids, ...
Better them than you!
O how I love the SARS, ...
(Cough twice and collapse.)
Tune: Sing a Song of Sixpence
Lyrics: Splat
Sing a song of six checks,
A pocket full of flour,
Four-and-twenty hashers,
Hashing for an hour.
And when they found the beer check,
There wasn't any there.
All agreed to go On-In
And lynch that goddamn hare!
Tune: O Holy Night
Lyrics: Splat
O holy Beer!
The hops, the yeast, the barley,
Combined as one we drink you joyfully.
O holy Beer!
Our thirst is overwhelming!
We need you soon! O, are we close to thee?
You are our hope through miles of thorn and PO,
And when we're done, we'll let the cold beer flow.
Fall on your knees,
And sing to ale and lager!
O be-er divine! O beer, O beer divine!
O beer di-vine! O-O beer, O beer divine!
Tune: Pop Goes The Weasel
Lyrics: Splat
Once a year on a certain night,
The hasher dons his red dress.
He thinks he'll have just one more beer--
Pop goes his dress seam!
Tune: Mary Had A Little Lamb
Lyrics: Splat
Hasher wore a short red dress,
Short red dress, short red dress.
Hasher wore a short red dress,
It looked so fucking tight!
Everywhere that hasher went,
Hasher went, hasher went,
Everywhere that hasher went,
The ladies would take flight!
Tune: If You're Happy And You Know It
Lyrics: Splat
Based on ideas from Annahymen and Quick Drip, Seattle H3
If you're a drunkard and you know it, raise your glass!
If you're a drunkard and you know it, raise your glass!
If you're a drunkard and you know it,
(slurred)Then your slurring will surely show it.
If you're a drunkard and you know it, raise your glass!
Tune: This Old Man
Lyrics: Splat
Two pierced tits,
They look fine.
May I feel them all the time?
With a pinch and a wiggle,
Now they're getting hard.
I hold them in high regard.
Two pierced tits,
They look great.
Show them while I masturbate!
With a pinch and a wiggle,
Now they're getting hard.
I hold them in high regard.
Tune: (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66
Lyrics: Splat
Well if you ever plan to have some sex,
Try one more way,
It's the foreplay,
That's the best.
You'll feel fine
On Route 69.
Well they do it in Chicago and L.A.,
More than two million people every day.
You'll feel fine
On Route 69.
Go down on his dickie,
It's not so tricky.
See her little cunny,
Looks O so yummy.
Get set to suck and blow,
As you try fellatio.
Don't put up a big fuss,
You'll like cunnilingus.
Scrotum, vulva,
Let that tounge revolve-a!
Would you get hip
To this kindly tip
And go take that cunnilingal dip.
You'll feel fine
On Route 69.
(Repeat previous two verses.)
Tune: Don't Cry For Me, Argentina
Lyrics: Splat
Don't cry for us, Titillator!
The truth is we'll always need you.
All through the drunkenness,
Our wild parties,
We're down on our knees.
Soon you'll want more sleaze!
Don't cry for us, Titillator!
The truth is we'll always love you.
You gave us horniness;
You have so rocked this town;
Now is no time to frown:
Just drink it down, down, down...
Tune: Deck The Halls
Lyrics: Splat
Running trail in this fine city,
On-on-on-on-on, on-on, on-on.
See that girl, now ain't she pretty?
Wood-y-wood-y-wood, wood-wood, wood-wood.
She's fifteen, don't even think it!
Jail-jail-jail, jail-jail-jail, jail-jail-jail.
Now it's time for you to drink it,
Down-down-down-down-down, down-down, down-down.
Tune: Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
Lyrics: Splat & Enter the Gerbil
A Hobbit is just the thing
To destroy this evil ring.
Despite my great desire,
I threw it in a crack of fire.
Chorus:
I threw it in the burning crack of fire
It went down, down, down,
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burns, burns,
The ring of power, the ring of power
The taste of power is sweet,
And we have hairy feet.
We look just like a child.
The ring, it makes us wild.
(Chorus)
Tune: Strike The Bell Second Mate (Also, "Clack of the Shears", a traditional
Oz/NZ sheep shearing song)
Lyrics: Splat, with help from The Belles of Bedlam
Here in my bedchamber and strutting about,
There is my Tommy Boy so steady and so stout; [appropriate gesture here]
What he is a-thinkin' of he doesn't know himself,
And I wish that he would hurry up and ring, ring my bell.
Chorus:
Ring my bell Tommy Boy, time to go down low;
Look ya well to lickin' if you think you want a blow;
You haven't done your duty, 'til you've made a sister yell.
O I wish that you would hurry up and ring, ring my bell.
Sittin' with my Tommy Boy, a kissin' on the couch,
He'll want some help with the swellin' in his pouch.
His sac is hairy, and it's stinky, truth to tell,
And I wish that he would hurry up and ring, ring my bell.
(Chorus)
Lying on his back side and pulling on his pud,
Ticklin' the knob, he thinks he's a stud.
He doesn't realize that he's putting me through hell,
And I wish that he would hurry up and ring, ring my bell.
(Chorus)
Lyin' with my Tommy Boy, a humpin' in my room;
He don't know which hole's the entrance to the womb.
He says "size don't matter," and you know that's just as well,
And I wish that he would hurry up and ring, ring my bell.
(Chorus)
There lies my Tommy Boy, a sleepin' on his side,
In spite of what he thinks, it wasn't a great ride.
But I've got a better toy, a-sittin' on my shelf,
And I guess that I will help myself to ring, ring my bell.
(Chorus)
Tune: God Is So Good
Lyrics: Splat
Beer is so good.
Beer is so good.
Beer is so good.
It's so good to drink it down, down, down, down...
Tune: 100th Psalm (The Old 100th, the Doxology)
Lyrics: Splat
Note: This is an additional verse to "As I Was Walking Through The Wood"
Generic version:
As our hare lay trail through the wood,
He shat himself, he knew he would.
He cried for HELP, but no help came.
That's why this trail was really lame.
A special version for Lois Lame of Gypsies in the Palace H3:
As Lois lay trail through the wood,
She shat herself, she knew she would.
She cried for HELP, but no help came.
That's why this trail was really Lame.
Tune: Amazing Grace
Lyrics: Splat
Homeless Hash Ho
Lives in a van
Down by the wide river.
She runs the trail
And proves she can
Keep up with my liver.
And when she's had
Her fill of us
And drunk this city dry,
She'll climb on board
Her little bus:
A new hash she will try.
Previously unpublished bonus verse:
And when she leaves
Our hashing ground
To wander this great land,
We all will miss
That squeaky sound:
The rocking of her van.
Tune: Angels We Have Heard On High
Lyrics: Splat
She's been nearly everyplace
From New Zealand to the Bay.
She brings joy to every face,
And we all hope that she'll stay.
Bea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ear Trap!
She's our favourite Kiwi!
Bea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ea - ear Trap!
She's the Harriette for me!
Tune: Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel
Lyrics: Splat (with a little help from Full of Shit)
Note: If you don't know what PO is, replace the first line with 'Hello Poison Oak, my friend,'
Hello PO my old friend,
I've got you on my crotch again.
Well, you know you make my asshole itch.
These oozing sores are such a bitch.
And the words of the doctor chilled my bones:
"Prednisone."
Drink it down
You asshole(s)!
Tune: When You Wore a Tulip (sometimes known as 'My Little Red Rose')
Lyrics: Splat
Note: Adapted from a very similar song in the Half-Mind Hymnal for the
Inaugural Little Pink For Profit H3.
I wore my panties,
My little pink panties,
And he wore his Guinness shorts.
He began to caress me,
And then he undressed me,
What a thrill we had in store.
He played with my titties,
My little pink titties
And down where the short hairs grow.
His kisses grew sweeter,
He pulled out his peter,
And whitewashed my little pink rose.
Tune: It's a Small World After All
Lyrics: Splat (with a little help from Thurston Bowel the Turd)
So I'm lost on trail, & the outlook's bleak.
RMO's the hare for the second week.
Well, it's hard to be on
When the flour is gone.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Chorus:
San Francisco suck my balls!
San Francisco suck my balls!
San Francisco suck my balls!
You can suck me off!
Who's Your Daddy drinks; he thinks it's a game.
My liver squirms as I hear him exclaim,
'It's time to kill that keg.
Fill up that hollow leg!'
San Francisco suck my balls!
Now we need a way to make the pack grow.
This looks like a job for Ms. Stroke & Blow.
Well she'll huff, & she'll puff.
I just can't get enough!
San Francisco suck my balls!
At six tits a week it is downright mean.
That's five hundred tits I have never seen.
Titless, bring out the newbs.
I want to see their boobs!
San Francisco suck my balls!
I always fear a Hard & Lengthy trail.
My knees will creak, & my liver will fail.
But one thing that I know,
That she's no RMO.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Well the trails are shit, & the beer is flat,
& Splat's songs are lame, & the chicks are fat.
The GMs, they need clues.
I need to pay my dues.
San Francisco suck my balls!
It's Halloween, & my costume's too tight,
& 6 Tits is nude, that's really a fright.
The night is a scare
With no boobs that are bare.
San Francisco suck my balls!
At Snowball I'm thinking, 'Who are these guys?'
Who knew these wankers had dresses & ties?
Well everyone looks great,
But I can't find my date.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Everyone gets laid during B2B.
I see the cocks & boobs are swinging free.
The float will win the prize.
Now get between my thighs!
San Francisco suck my balls!
Now we'll all get dressed for the Red Dress Run.
Even Splat looks good when the drinking's done.
I would be such a sight,
But my dress is too tight.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Fuck Buddy's a pal just as advertised.
She says 'Howdy, Friend', & I get a rise.
But every time I call,
She's never there at all.
San Francisco suck my balls!
There's no way to catch up to Straight to Hell.
So far out in front he's on next week's trail.
When you're running so fast,
All chicks are in the past.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Now this year in song has come to an end.
Let's all drink a toast to our new GMs.
Well there's no need to curse;
They can't be any worse.
San Francisco suck my balls!
It's cold and it's damp and it's lib-er-al.
The schools all suck and the jails are full.
The earthquake is near,
But it's Bush that they fear.
San Francisco suck my balls!
Tune: O Little Town of Bethlehem
Lyrics: Splat
O cold beer on a winter's day
Just doesn't satisfy.
We'll drink some grog, we've got eggnog,
Hot buttered rum to try.
Let's lay down by the fire.
Mulled wine will make us tight.
The neighbor bakes erotic cakes.
We'll have some fun tonight
Tune: A View To A Kill
Lyrics: Splat
Meeting you with a view to a swill
Face to face in sunny places know the thrill
Shiggy covers me
But you know, the beer I'm drinking
Will make me pee
Could it be the whole pack wondering 'why?'
The hare will try, a back-check leading us wide
B2B's why, why don't we
Chorus:
Do Double-o-seven
That foamy mug is all we need
Do Double-o-seven
Do him then please do me
Do Double-o-seven
That foamy mug is all we need
Do Double-o-seven
The choice for you is a view to a swill
Between the trees inebriation drink your fill
You'll drink many beers
Crawl on all fours through the shiggy
The On-In nears
To quench your thirst soon you're feeling no pain
A chance to find a partner who is game
A chance to grind, but will we
(Chorus)
Where you will see there's a view to a swill!
Version from NorCal's InterAm 2007 bid:
Meeting you with a brew on a hill
Face to face in sunny places know the thrill
Shiggy covers me
But you know, the beer I'm drinking
Will make me pee
Could it be the whole pack wondering 'why?'
The hare will try, a back-check leading us wide
Inter-Am's why, why don't we
Chorus:
Hash our way to NorCal
That foamy mug is all we need
Hash our way to NorCal
To wild hills & redwood trees
Hash our way to NorCal
That foamy mug is all we need
Hash our way to NorCal
The choice for you is a brew on a hill
Between the trees inebriation drink your fill
You'll drink many beers
Crawl on all fours through the shiggy
The On-In nears
To quench your thirst soon you're feeling no pain
A chance to find a partner who is game
A chance to grind, but will we
(Chorus)
Where you will see there's a brew to be swilled!
Tune: I Write The Songs by Barry Manilow
Lyrics: Splat
I've been hashing forever, & I laid the very first trail.
I put the beer & the bad shiggy together.
I am the hash, & I lay the trails.
I lay the trails that make the whole hash bitch.
I lay the trails that leave that special itch.
I lay the trails that make the grown men cry.
I lay the trails, I lay the trails.
My cock lies deep within you,
& I've got my own piece of your ass.
Now when I lie between your thighs,
I come again--fill you with a mighty blast.
Now I'll put back on my pants.
At least you gave my trail a chance.
& I set piss-up checks so you'll have booze.
Cold beer feels your gut.
Well that beer makes us all a slut.
Beer from me, beer for you.
Beer from you, beer for me.
Now commence debauchery!
Tune: Another Saturday Night, by Cat Stevens
Lyrics: Splat
Another Saturday night, & I ain't got no penis.
I got so horny that I must get laid.
Now how I wish I had some kind of dildo.
I need to masturbate.
Tune: Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
Lyrics: Splat
Cougar, cougar on the prowl.
Get that guy to make you growl!
Now the cougar's in a cage.
Oops! That guy was underage.
Cougar, cougar don't you frown.
Now it's time to drink it down down…
Tune: Yesterday, by the Beatles
Lyrics: Splat
Note: Another verse for the 'Pregnancy' (a.k.a. 'Leprosy') song.
Hash Rugby
Boulder Holder's bearing down on me.
I've dropped the ball & want to flee.
O why did I play
Hash Rugby?
Tune: Here Comes the Bride
Lyrics: Splat
Here comes the bride,
Why's she wearing white?
Here comes the groom,
Just whacked off in his room.
Here comes the ring,
On his tiny thing.
Here comes the best man,
With his cock in his hand!
Tune: This Old Man
Lyrics: Splat
My Fairlane, she inspires.
Just check out those giant tires!
So much fun to drive,
She's everybody's dream,
Fuelled by my American Cream.
My Hummer, built like brick,
I just love to shift his stick.
So much fun to drive,
He's everybody's dream,
Stick like an American Beam.
Allante, she's the best,
Drives farther than all the rest.
So much fun to drive,
She's everybody's dream,
Comes with an American Scream.
His Corvair, it's his pride,
Pistons pumping deep inside.
So much fun to drive,
He's everybody's dream,
Full service American Steam.
Tune: New York, New York
Lyrics: Splat
Start passing the booze; I'm drinking today.
Where can I really savor it? -- New York, New York.
The next beer to choose; a bar tab to pay.
Will twenty dollars cover it? -- Not in New York!
Don't want to pass out in a city that doesn't sleep,
Or find I'm stuck with the bill -- I'm really cheap.
These big city brews, they made me this way.
I have to pee all over it. -- In old New York.
If I can drink it there, I'll drink it everywhere!
So here's to you: New York, New York!
Tune: Row, Row, Row Your Boat
Lyrics: Arabian Goggler (with a little help from Splat)
Down Down Down your beer,
To pay for your crime.
Quit complaining about the taste,
There's no sperm this time.
Tune: War Pigs by Black Sabbath
Lyrics: Oral Roberts
He runs slower than molasses
Cause he's scoping young boys' asses
Master of inebriation
And delayed ejaculation
All those oozing sores are burning
From the tricks that he's been turning
With the ladies he has no luck
Cause he's always too drunk to fuck,
Down-down-down!
Tune: The Star-Spangled Banner
Lyrics: Manisex Destiny
Oh say, can I pee
In that bush by that tree?
I'm worried that I
might be seen by the next guy.
I could use some relief,
I would water that leaf,
But I'd end up quite blue
If I dribbled on my shoe.
And the pressure is high,
And no bathroom is nigh.
The truth is that I
Can't hold back this great flood!
So out comes my pecker,
And at the crowd it will wave.
'Cause the thought of going pee,
Has made me so brave.
PLAY BALL!
Tune: Yellow Rose of Texas
Lyrics: Licks It Clean (with a little help from Splat)
When it's anthrax time at Ikea,
And there's no help where you've run,
Bin Laden's in the restroom
With a car bomb half-way done.
No time for evacuation.
No time to say your prayers.
When it's anthrax time at Ikea,
It's time to arrest the hares!
Tune: A Summer Song by Chad & Jeremy
Lyrics: Cervix So Laid
Balls swaying in the summer breeze
Pants are down below your knees
As you get hard.
You're giving me a hummer now
Lips are sucking me, and how
In your back yard
Moaning when you go down on me
Watch the teeth or I will be
Permanently scarred
Hot sweaty sticky party just for two
And we both will come
It's loads of fun with a big squirt gun
A real ace in the hole
Wish you'd never stop the blow
No no no no
And when your clam
Opens up so far and wide
I stick my tongue down deep inside
And you scream 'More!'
Tune: Hopelessly Hoping by Crosby, Stills & Nash
Lyrics: Cervix So Laid
Hopelessly hashing, hung over, he hikes through horse crap
Attempting a trail
Swimming in sewage and slimy green garbage
He steps into a bear trap
Only to have a fish fall on his lap
Witlessly wanking, he wades through the ragweed and wheezes
Yelling 'Where's the fucking beer?'
Painfully pissing, PO on his pecker, he ponders
Did he hear a hello… or even 'On on'?
He is one hasher
He has two sore balls
He has twelve trail choices
He has foreskin failure
Right at the river, the road runs by arrows, reversing
His cookies have been tossed
But it's all bullshit, a back check right by the beer check, so
He's not really lost
But only… DFL
He is one hasher
He has two sore balls
He has twelve trail choices
He has foreskin failure
Splat
Created: Mon Jan 6 09:27:51 PST 2003
Last modified: Thu May 31 15:00:52 PDT 2007