If I had the eye of an eagle,
if I had the wings of a crow,
I’d fly over god’s creation
and shit on the hashers below, below.
Shit on, shit on,
shit on the hashers below, below.
Shit on, shit on,
shit on the hashers below.
Category Archives: Hash Songs
You’re a shitty hare
(to the tune of Living on a prayer, Bon Jovi)
Credit to Tour De Puke
You’re spose to mark trail,
with flour dots.
Doesn’t make a difference to you if we get shot.
I hope you’re planning to drink a lot because…
[insert reason for offense that rhymes with shot]
oooooo, you’re half-way there.
Ooooo-ooooo, you’re a shitty hare, you’re a shitty hare.
(solo)
down,down down, down, down, down….
The Mayor of Bayswater’s Daughter
And the hairs!
And the hairs!
And the hairs of her dickey-di-do
hung down to their knees.
One black one, one white one,
and one with a bit of shite on
and one with a fairy light on,
to show is the way.
And the hairs!
And the hairs!
And the hairs of her dickey-di-do
hung down to their knees.
Here’s to Fellow Hasher
(Ach, Du Lieber Augustin)
Here’s to brother hasher,
brother hasher, brother hasher,
Here’s to brother hasher,
may he chug-a-lug.
He’s happy, he’s jolly,
he’s fucked up by golly.
Here’s to brother hasher,
may he chug-a-lug.
So drink motherfucker!
Drink motherfucker!
Drink motherfucker!
Drink motherfucker!
Here’s to brother hasher,
may he chug-a-lug.
Here’s to…
Here’s to ______, s/he’s so blue.
S/he’s a Hasher through and through.
S/he’s a pisspot, so they say.
Tried to go to heaven, but s/he went the other way.
Where Were You Last Week?
(To the tune of Hee-Haw)
Where, oh where, were you last week?
Why did you make us hash all alone?
You fat, lazy bastards, you weren’t even here!
So we fucked all the virgins, and drank all the beer!
Drink, drink, drink it on down…
I’ve been searching for true trail
(To the tune of I’ve been working on the railroad)
I’ve been searching for true trail,
all the live long day.
I’ve been searching for true trail,
and somehow lost my way.
I can hear the whistles blowing,
blowing all over town.
I can hear the RA singing,
grab your beer and drink it down, down, down, down…
There are no serious hashers in a marathon
There are no serious hashers in a marathon (in a marathon).
Oh, There are no serious hashers in a marathon. (in a marathon).
Cause they run so fucking far,
and they don’t stop at the bar.
Oh, There are no serious hashers in a marathon.
Drink it down, down down…
We Met on Tinder
To the tune of Timber, by Pitbull
(Credits to S&M Man)
She’s/He’s going down
We met on Tinder/Grindr
Gave her/him some booze
Took off my pants
This is a night
I won’t remember
What was you’re name?
Cause I forget
She’s/He’s going down, down , down, down