Hash Songs
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
AAHLAWETTA
Melody—Alouette
Comment: Another popular hash song that probably exists outside
the hash as well. The idea is to get a willing female to stand on a
table. The leader and pack then proceed to embarrass her
thoroughly. There's a women's version in the Famous Harriers
section.
(Female volunteer needed)
CHORUS: Aahlawetta, Shoneton Aahlawetta,
Aahlawetta, Shoneton Aahlaw-way.
LEADER: Does she have ze stringy hair?
ALL: Oui, she has ze stringy hair.
LEADER: Stringy hair,
ALL: Stringy hair,
LEADER: Aahlawette! Aah, aah, aah . . .
CHORUS
LEADER: Does she have ze furrowed brow?
ALL: Oui, she has ze furrowed brow,
LEADER: Furrowed brow,
ALL: Furrowed brow,
LEADER: Stringy hair,
ALL: Stringy hair,
LEADER: Aahlawette! Aah, aah, aah . . .
Wooden eye (Yes I would!) . . .
Broken nose . . .
Blow job lips . . .
Two buck teeth . . .
Double chin . . .
Swinging tits . . .
Beer belly . . .
Bulbous butt . . .
Furry thing . . .
LEADER: Now isn't she a nice-a girl?
ALL: Oui, she is a nice-a girl,
LEADER: Nice-a girl,
ALL: Nice-a girl,
LEADER: Aahlawette! Aah, aah, aah . . .
CHORUS
LEADER/ALL: How I love her (repeat all . . .)
B
BITCH A DOG
Melody—Do, Re, Mi
Comment: I've never seen this one performed, but understand it
involves rude gestures as well as singing.
Bitch, a dog, a female dog,
Itch, a place for you to scratch,
Hitch, I pull my knickers up,
Grab, another word for snatch,
Bath, a place for making gin,
Sex, another word for sin,
Prick, a needle going in,
And that will bring us back to
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch . . .
BYE BYE BLACKBIRD
Melody—Bye Bye Blackbird
Once a boy was no good,
Took a girl into the wood,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Laid her down upon the grass,
Pinched her tits and slapped her ass,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Took her where nobody else could find her,
To a place where he could really grind her,
Rolled her over on her front,
Shoved his wank right up her cunt,
Blackbird, bye, bye.
But this girl she was no sport,
Took her story to a court,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Told her story in the morn,
All the jury had a horn,
Bye, bye, blackbird.
Then the judge came to his decision,
The poor sod got eighteen months in prison,
So next time, boy, do it right,
Stuff her twat with dynamite,
Blackbird, bye, bye.
C
COCK ROBIN
Melody—Who Killed Cock Robin
Comment: Singers accompany the words of the chorus with rude
gestures. Intervening verses are sung without gestures.
Who killed cock robin?
"I,"said the sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow,
I killed cock robin."
CHORUS (WORDS AND ACTIONS):
Oh-h-h-h the birds of the air said,
Fuck it! Let's chuck it!
When they heard cock robin
Had kicked the fucking bucket!
When they heard-d-d-d cock robin-n-n-n
Had kicked the fucking bucket!
Who saw him die?
"I,"said the owl,
"With my little trowel,
I'll dig the grave."
Who'll ring the bell?
"I,"said the bull,
"With my mighty tool,
I'll ring the bell."
Who'll say the prayer?
"I,"said the rook,
"With my little book,
I'll say the prayer."
COW KICKED NELLY
Melody—Turkey in the Straw
Comment: I think this one predates hashing by several years.
CHORUS: Oh, the cow kicked Nelly in the belly last night (three
times)
But the farmer says she'll be all right.
LEADER: Second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder and a
little bit worse.
(REPEAT CHORUS)
LEADER: Third verse, same as the first . . .(and so on through ten
verses, each louder and worse than the one before, or until stoned
by the pack)
THE CUCKOO
Melody—???
Comment: This may be a poem or recitation. I haven't found a
singable melody for it.
The cuckoo is a funny bird,
Who sits in the grass,
With his wings neatly folded,
And his beak up his ass.
In this strange position,
He can only say, "Twit!"
'Cause it's hard to say, "Cuckoo,"
With a beak full of shit.
D
Dough, Ray, Me
Dough, the stuff that buys me beer
Ray, the guy who serves me beer
Me, the guy who drinks the beer
Far, a long long way to the beer
So, I’ll have another beer
La, I think I'll have a beer
Tea, no thanks I'll have a beer
Which will bring us back to
Down, down, down down
His One-Skin
Melody - My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
His one skin hangs down to his two skin,
His two skin hangs down to his three,
His three skin hangs down to his foreskin,
His foreskin hangs down to his knee.
Roll back, roll back,
Roll back my foreskin for me, for me.
Roll back, roll back,
Please roll back his foreskin for me.
Drink it down, down, down, down…
Heineken, Schmeineken
Heineken, schmeineken,
Fuck that shit!
Pabst . . . Blue . . . Ribbon!
Here’s to Brother Hasher
Here’s to brother hasher, brother hasher, brother hasher
Here’s to brother hasher, may he chugga-lug
He’s happy, he’s jolly
He’s fucked up by golly
Here’s to brother hasher, may he chugga-lug
So drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker
Drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker
Here’s to brother hasher, may he chugga-lug
Drink it down, down, down, down…
IT’S A SMALL DICK
Melody - It's a Small World
Contributed by Hazukashii
Well it isn't long and it isn't thick,
It gets hard too slow and it cums too quick,
It gets lost in her twat,
But it's all that he's got,
It's a small, small, dick.
It's a small dick after all,
It's a small dick after all,
Always limp from alcohol,
It's a small, small, dick!
Songs beginning with I
Songs beginning with J
X
Y
YOU’RE STUPID, YOU’RE STUPID
Melody – Chant
Composed by Yorkie Porkie, City HHH
You're stupid, you're stupid
You're really fucking dumb
If it wasn't for your mother
You'd be a stain of cum!
The Philosophers' Drinking Song
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable.
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel,
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nietzche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away--
Half a crate of whisky every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle.
Hobbes was fond of his dram,
And René Descartes was a drunken fart.
'I drink, therefore I am.'
Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed,
A lovely little thinker,
But a bugger when he's pissed.
The Bagpipe Song
Here's to the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash.
(pack does two lines sounding like a bagpipe)
Then there was the jockey with his upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash.
(do two lines sounding like a bagpipe)
Then there was the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Then there was the queerie who was leering through his beery,
At the sight of the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Then there was the Harlot making money in the car lot,
To support the a' queerie who was leering through his beery,
At the sight of the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Then there was the HASHER who was posing as a flasher,
Hustling customers from the Harlot making money in the car lot,
To support the a' queerie who was leering through his beery,
At the sight of the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Then there was the Wenchy doing down-down on a benchy,
Making money for the HASHER who was posing as a flasher,
Hustling customers from the Harlot making money in the car lot,
To support the a' queerie who was leering through his beery,
At the sight of the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Now the moral of this ditty is that when in Tucson City,
And you're with your favorite girlie,
Munching hairs all short and curly,
Just remember to take her hashing and to give her a good bashing,
And keep her away from the Wenchy doing down-down on a benchy,
Making money for the HASHER who was posing as a flasher,
Hustling customers from the Harlot making money in the car lot,
To support the a' queerie who was leering through his beery,
At the sight of the Yankee who was wanking in his hanky,
At the thought of the jockey with the upstanding cocky,
Who was riding on the lassie with the black hairy assey,
Who was lifting up her kilty at the Jhavelina Hash. (bagpipe)
Does a Hasher?
Melody - Do Your Balls Hang Low?
Does a hasher like to walk,
Does a hasher like to run,
Does a hasher like to be where they're having all the fun?
Can he drink a 12-ounce beer,
While his friends all sing and cheer,
Now your time has come.
So drink it down, down, down . . .
Der Pizza Hout
Der Pizza Hout, der Pizza Hout,
Kentucky Fried Chicken, und der Pizza Hout,
Der Pizza Hout, der Pizza Hout,
Kentucky Fried Chicken, und der Pizza Hout,
MacDonalds, MacDonalds,
Kentucky Fried Chicken, und der Pizza Hout,
MacDonalds, MacDonalds,
Kentucky Fried Chicken, und der Pizza Hout.
Drink it down, down, down, down . . .
There Was A Little Bird
There was a little bird,
No bigger than a turd,
A-sittin' on a telegraph pole.
He ruffled up his neck,
And he shat about a peck,
As he puckered up his little asshole.
Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,
He puckered up his little asshole.
Dead Dog Rover
Tune: I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover
I'm looking over,
My dead dog Rover,
That I over ran with the mower.
One leg is missing,
The other is gone,
The third leg is scattered,
All over the lawn.
You see there's no explaining,
The one remaining,
It's spinning on the carport floor
I'm looking over,
My dead dog Rover,
That I over ran, hey, that I over ran, hey
That I over ran with the mower!
I’m looking over
My minced dog Rover
That I ran over with the mower
He’s no longer eating
He no longer barks
Hit his collar with the blade
And then we saw sparks
No there’s no use explaining
There’s nothing remaining
He’s scattered on the lawn, you see
I ran over
My dead dog Rover
And sent him to eternity
LOVE ME TENDER
Melody - Love Me Tender
By Nipple Me Elmo
Love me tender, love me sweet
Wrap your lips around my meat
Watch me smile and watch me grin
As the cum rolls down, down, down, down, down etc . . .
SOLDIER SONG
Melody - Itself
Asshole, asshole, a soldier I will be,
To piss, to piss, two pistols on my knee,
For cunt, for cunt, to fight for my country,
Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole,
A soldier I will be.
Drink it down, down, down . . .
THEY OUGHT TO BE PUBLICLY PISSED ON
Melody - My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean
They ought to be publicly pissed on,
They ought to be publicly shot,
They ought to be tied to a urinal,
And left there to fester and rot,
Drink it down, down, down . . .