Super Hasher

Tune: Battle Hymn of the Republic

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.

Keywords: hashsong