69-1
ISUCF"V"MB
Band Bible
Fall 2002 Edition
Email Froth@iastate.edu for corrections/additions/general bitching
ISUCF"V"MB –n Once upon a time, the marching band would make a few
dollars by
cleaning up the stadium after games. One afternoon, a few band
members were changing out of
their uniforms into work clothes in the football locker in the Olson
building. In walks head
football coach Earle Bruce. He looked around the locker room and saw
all of the non- football
players and said "Hey! You can't change in here! This is the Varsity
locker room!" At this time,
band member Tim Jensen looks at Earle and says, "Yes we can! We're
the Varsity Marching
Band!" That was good enough for Earle. And it stuck. (As according
to the video done for the
ISU Alumni Band's 10th Anniversary Party)
BAND – n (The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language:
Third Edition.)
1996.
PRONUNCIATION: band
NOUN: 1. A group of animals. 2. Music A group of players who perform
as an ensemble.
VERB: Inflected forms: band·ed, band·ing, bands.
TRANSITIVE & VERB: To assemble or unite in a group.
INTRANSITIVE & VERB: To form a group; unite: "banded together for
protection."
SYNONYMS: band, company, corps, party, troop, troupe. The central
meaning shared by these
nouns is "a group of individuals acting together in a shared
activity or enterprise": a band of
thieves; a company of scientists; a corps of drummers; a party of
tourists; a troop of students on a
field trip; a troupe of actors.
ETYMOLOGY: Old French, probably of Germanic origin.
69-2
69-3
THE BOOK OF PREFACE
Long ago, when the band was young
and the members didn't know a thing,
they marched and marched, and played and played,
and said, "Fuck it! Let's sing!"
They sang of disgusting and perverted
things on every pre- football night,
they sang of "Rodriguez" and "Red River Valley"
and oh yes, "Drink Fights".
Throughout the seasons the men marched
and played and drank and oh did they sing,
but there was something missing from this band
even Marty couldn't bring.
But the men kept playing and marching and
drinking and they sang every night of course,
but what they were lacking was the companionship and affection
you can only get from one source.
So enter the women into this story
who bring life, energy and beauty,
which made the men cheer, hoot, and holler
and they started to sing about nudity.
The women were shocked
at the songs that they had heard,
and they headed for the door
but they finally got the nerve…
"Fuck you!" one yelled and she gathered the girls around,
and then they started singing a strange and unusual sound.
From their mouths came obscenities
and words of perversion,
but the song sounded familiar
just female versions.
(Female virgins? Not in this band!)
The men jumped up and gave a big cheer.
They went to the keg to get them a beer.
The women said, "Let's drink to the ISUCF"V"MB,"
but the men said, "No, let's drink to the women we see."
So let us raise a glass
And all make a cheer
To the Iowa State Marching Band
And of course, Beer, Beer, Beer, Beer…(Seg. into Drink Fights)
Derk Jacobson, Alto Sax ,1994
Revised. Chris Colvin, Tuba, 2000
69-4
THE BOOK OF PREGAME AND SCHOOL SONGS
DRINK FIGHTS
Oh, we will drink, drink, drink for Iowa State,
And the beer will ever flow.
Oh, we will drink, drink, drink for Iowa State,
And then we will have to go (to the bathroom!)
Loyal drunks forever true,
And we'll drink that keg right through,
And when we hit that bar we'll hit it strong
All night long for I-S-U!
CICHY FIGHTS
Oh we will fuck Cichy up for Iowa State
Because the bastard has to die
Oh we will fuck Cichy up for Iowa State
Because he makes the flag line cry HE'S AN ASS HOLE
He's an asshole yes he is,
Just like Barry Larkin
And when we fuck Cichy up we'll shove our brass
Up his ass for I-S-U!
LACOGNATA FIGHTS
Oh, we will fire LaCognata for Iowa State
Because the asshole has to die!
Oh, we will fire LaCognata for Iowa State
Because he makes the drum line cry, "He's a sonofabitch!"
He's a sonofabitch, yes he is,
Just like NICK BERTELSEN!
So when it's goal-posting time, we'll nail his balls to the wall for
ISU!
WALDEN FIGHTS
Oh, we will fire Jim Walden for Iowa State
Because the liar has to go
Oh we will fire Jim Walden for Iowa State
Because he always runs the ball UP THE MIDDLE!
Third and three we pass the ball,
Third and twelve we run.
So when it's goal-posting time we'll ask Gene Smith to kick his ass
Off the grass for I-S-U!
69-5
MARTY FIGHTS
Oh, we will let Marty fall for Iowa State
Because the Asshole has to die
Oh, we will let Marty fall for Iowa State
Because he makes the right guides cry, he's an asshole!
He's an asshole yes he is, just like Shorty's Mom
And when we watch Marty fall we'll leave his ass
On the grass for I-S-U!
ISU POWER CHORDS
I
Need
An
Ice
Cold
Beer………………………
BALLS OF ISU
(to the tune of "Bells of Iowa State")
Blue are our balls after one night with the banners.
And our tools are sore from banging them upon the floor.
Dear Mr. Doctor, tell me it's not true,
That I'll never screw again at ISU.
TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME
Take me out to the ballgame,
Take me out to the crowd.
Feed me some nachos and Apple Schnapps.
I don't care if we're caught by the cops
For it's root, root, root for the Cy-clones
If they don't win it's the same.
For it's up the middle, up the middle, up the middle, punt!
At the foot... ball... game...!
GREEN ACRES
Green Acres is the place to be
ISUCF'V'MB is the life for me!
Goin' to a bowl game (or so I'm told)
Fuck the Hawks, just gimme that red 'n' gold!!
Iowa State is where I'd rather stay
I just wanna watch the Cyclones play!
I just adore the endzone view
Wish I could see the other endzone too!!!
69-6
The Book of Iowa State™ Lyrics
ISU FIGHTS
Oh we will fight fight fight for Iowa State,
And may her colors ever fly.
Oh we will fight fight fight for Iowa State,
With a will to do or die! Rah! Rah! Rah!
Loyal sons forever true,
And we will fight the battle through!
And when we hit that line
We'll hit it hard, every yard for I-S-U!
RISE SONS OF IOWA STATE
Fighting sons we sing to you, keep your spirit ringing true;
Make your valor carry on, and you'll see the battle through, --
Rise sons of Iowa State
And proudly raise your flaming banner to the sky;
Lift our ringing challenge valiantly,
Let our war-cry ever be "victory!"
Bold sons of Iowa State
Keep marching onward ever near the victory gate;
There to consecrate
Our everlasting loyalty
Rise! Iowa State.
FOR "I" FOR "S"
For "I" for "S" forever.
For Iowa state all the way,
Let's go! To show them that the gang's all here for
Go! To show them how the Cyclones cheer
For "I for "S" forever
For Iowa State do it right!
It's time to climb up on the victory wagon
Fight! Iowa State! Fight! Fight!
THE BELLS OF IOWA STATE
Green hills for thy throne,
And for crown a golden melody
Ringing in the hearts of all
Who bring thee love and loyalty;
Dear Alma Mater,
Make our spirits great,
True, and valiant like the bells of Iowa State.
69-7
THE BOOK OF PERVERTED SONGS
RODRIGUEZ
INTRODUCTION:
Aye, yai, yai, yai, Rodriguez the Mexican pervert.
He'll eat out your mother and cumhole your brother
And waltz me around by my willy.
VERSES:
There once was a priest from Morocco,
Whose motto was really quite macho.
He said "To be blunt,
God decreed we eat cunt.
Why else would it look like a taco?"
There once was a man from Brewster,
Who said to his wife as he goosed her,
"That used to be grand,
But look at my hand!
You're not wiping as clean as you used to."
There once was a Rabbi from Peru
Who was vainly attempting to screw
He said in dismay,
"If you keep up this way,
The Messiah will come before you."
There once was a young gal named Dot,
Who lived on pig shit and snot.
When she couldn't get these
She'd eat the green cheese
Which she scraped from the sides of her
twat.
There once was a man from Iraq
Who had holes down the length of his cock.
When he got an erection
He would play a selection
From Johann Sebastian Bach.
There once was a lawyer named Murray
Who said to his client, "Don't worry.
Just open your mouth,
And I'll get you out.
You'll just have to blow the whole jury."
There once was a man from Knort,
Whose prick was unusually short.
When he got into bed,
His girlfriend said,
"That isn't a prick, it's a wart."
There once was a lady named Dot,
Who inserted a fly in her twat.
That fucker would buzz
When you tickled her fuzz
'Till you glued his wings shut with a shot.
There once was a man from Peru
Who fell asleep while in his canoe.
He dreamt about Venus
And played with his penis,
And woke up in a boat full of goo.
There once was a girl from Wheeling,
Who had and incredible feeling.
She would lay on her back
And tickle her crack
And pee all over the ceiling.
There once was a man from Euglas,
Whose balls were constructed of brass.
When jingled together
They played "Stormy Weather"
And lightning shot out of his ass.
There was a young man from Racine,
Who invented a beat-off machine.
Concave or convex,
It would serve either sex.
But, oh, what a mother to clean.
69-8
There was a young woman we knew
Who was dozing one day in a pew.
When the preacher yelled "SIN"
She yelled "Count me in,
As soon as the service is through!
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
He said with a grin,
As he wiped off his chin,
"If my ear were a cunt I would fuck it."
There once was a caveman named Dave,
Who dragged a dead whore to his cave.
She was smellier than shit
And was missing one tit,
But think of the money he saved.
There once was a man from St. Claire
Who laid his wife on the stair.
On the 69th
stroke
The damn thing broke,
So he finished her off in mid-air.
There once was a man from Racine,
Who invented a beat-off machine.
On the 69th stroke
The god damn thing broke
And beat his balls to a cream.
There was a man from Bengal
Who liked to do tricks in the hall.
His favorite trick
Was to stand on his dick
While he rolled around on one ball.
There was a young gaucho named Bruno.
Who said, "There is one thing that I do
know.
Women are fine,
And children divine,
But the llama is numero uno."
There once was a man from Rangoon.
Who was born nine months too soon.
He didn't have the luck
To be born by a fuck.
He was scraped off the sheets with a spoon.
*CHORUS: Aye, yai, yai, yai…
-If you like that, you're a sick motherfucker.
(Goes with Man from Rangoon)
-Your sister rides bicycles without seats.
-Your grandmother gives enemas to
chipmunks
-Your brother fucks Butterball turkeys.
-Your sister french kisses toilet seats
-Your brother beats off with a crowbar.
-Your mother scrapes bat shit off cave walls.
-Your brother wears dresses to discos.
-Your sister blows dogs for nickels.
-Your mother does squat thrusts on fire
plugs.
-Your mother swims out to meet troop ships.
-The troop ships rejected you mother.
-The troop ships requested your father.
-Your sister's in love with a carrot.
-Your father fills cream puffs at bakeries.
-Your father wraps hamsters in duck tape.
-Your mother douches with Drano.
-Your grandmother gives gummies to
plumbers.
-Your mother doesn't wipe, she drip dries.
-Your sister sticks to the couch.
…so sing me another verse that's worse than the other verse and
waltz me around by my willy
(titties).
69-9
GANG BANG
CHORUS: At the Gang bang, oh yes we will,
Because a gang bang gives us such a thrill.
When she was younger and in her prime,
She used to gang bang all the time,
But now she's older and turning gray,
She only gang bangs once a day.
VERSE FORMAT:
Knock! Knock!
<Line 1>
Who's there?
<Line 1> who?
<Line 2> …
--CHORUS--
Lena!
Lena up against the wall …
Eisenhower!
Eisenhower late for the gang bang…
Charlie Pride!
Charlie Pried her legs apart at the…
Urine!
Urine for sloppy seconds at the…
Gladiator!
Gladiator out at the …
Tijuana!
Tijuana bring your mother to the…
Emerson!
Emerson nice tits. Bitch…
Governor Hugh Carey!
Governor Hugh Carey your bitch upstairs
to…
Wilma!
Wilma finger do till I get a boner at…
Iran!
Iran a shuttle bus to…
Iraq!
Iraqsions are what we need at…
Nadia!
Nadia your head up and down on my dick
for awhile at…
Reagan!
Reagan brought his own Bush to…
BITE MY ASS
(to the tune of "Boomer Sooner")
Bite my ass, Bite my ass, Bite my ass,
Bite my ass, Bite my ass, Bite my ass,
I'm a Cyclone born and Cyclone bred
Better off dead than Sooner red
Die Oklahoma, Die Oklahoma, Die Oklahomaaaaaa
Fuck O.U.
69-10
HALLS OF ISU
(Traditional first verse:)
Well, it's Mr. Cichy whose balls are always itchy
In the halls, in the halls,
Well, it's Mr. Cichy whose balls are always itchy
In the halls, in the halls,
CHORUS: My eyes grow dim, I can not see
I have not brought my specs (four ships!)
I have not brought my specs with me
I have not brought my specs with me.
(example verses:)
It's Mr. C who gives it all for free…
It's cold, cold duck who makes you want to fuck…
It's a case of VD that makes it hard to pee…
It's the German chocolate cake that makes you want to lay her …
It's the bad, bad monkey, that makes you want to SPACK IT…
It's the old screen door, that makes you want to BANG HER…
It's the drum major Jared, that's make you want to WHACK HER…
It's Candy, Candy Sweet, to do her is a treat …
My poor old beer is broken, I need a freshman to fix it…
It's the old tool belt that makes you want to SCREW HER.
(Lyrics are made up along the way)
I'M AN ASSHOLE
I'm an asshole, I'm an asshole, I'm an asshole till I die,
But I'd rather be an asshole than a god damn Hawkeye.
I'm a piece of shit, I'm a piece of shit, I'm a piece of shit I
know,
But I'd rather be a piece of shit than a black and gold dildo.
In the Big Ten, where men screw men, there's a place called U of I.
Forty thousand screaming assholes and a DICK named Hayden Fry.
In the paper, there's was a column, written by a guy named CHUCK
(ka).
With his nose up Herky's asshole, he's a stupid mother FUCK (ka).
In Iowa City, there's a new guy, he goes by the name of Kurk (ka)
If he's anything like old Hayden he's a mother fucking jerk (ka)
In the MEAC, where men lick sac, there's a place called Hampton U
7 screaming assholes, and a band that likes eating poo.
There was a director, (Director? Nearly wrecked her!) La Conata was
his name,
He was an asshole, he got fired, what a damn fucking shame. Yeah!
69-11
THE FIREMAN SONG
My father is a fireman. He puts out fire. Hmmmmm.
My mother is a fireman's wife. She puts out fire. Hmmmmm.
My brother is a fireman's son. He puts out fire. Hmmmmm.
My sister is a fireman's daughter. She puts out. Hmmmmm.
My doggie is a fireman's dog. He puts out fire. Pssssss.
My kitty is a fireman's cat. It's a wet pussy. Yummmmm.
ROLL ME OVER
Male Version
CHORUS: Roll me over, roll me over
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
VERSES:
This is number one, and we're gonna have some fun.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number two, and my hand is on her shoe.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number three, and my hand is on her knee.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number four, and I've got her on the floor.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number five, and my hand is on her thigh.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number six, and I've got her in a fix.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number seven, and I think I'm in heaven.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number eight, and I got it in straight.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number nine, and I got it out in time.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
This is number ten, and we'll start all over again.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
1, 2, 3, Roll me over, roll me over, roll me over lay
me down do it again.
69-12
Female Version
CHORUS: Roll me over, roll me over
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
VERSES:
This is number one, and he thinks he's having fun.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number two, and he hasn't got a clue.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number three, and he thinks it's all for free.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number four, and it's really quite a chore.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number five, and he's a poor excuse for a guy.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number six, and they've all got tiny dicks.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number seven, and I wish I were in heaven.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number eight, and he never gets it straight.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number nine, and I need some more wine.
Roll me over leave me alone never again.
This is number ten, and I'm doing his best friend.
Roll me over lay me down do it again.
1, 2, 3, Roll me over, roll me over, roll me over leave
me alone never again.
SKEETER ON MY PETER
CHORUS:
There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off
There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off
There's a dozen on my cousin, I can hear those fuckers buzzin'
There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off
She was ridin' down the highway doin' 82
When the chain on her motorcycle broke.
Well, they found her in the grass with a muffler up her ass,
And her titties playing Dixie on the spoke.
There's a bummer on my hummer, can't you see
There's a blister on my sister sweet Marie.
There's some crap on my lap, and I think I got the clap.
There's a skeeter on my peter, whack it off.
69-13
BANNERS
Banners, Banners, B-A-N-N-E-R-S wa wa wa
Banners, Banners, B.A.N.N.E.R.S.
They're not slow oh yes they're quick
If you ask them real nice they'll suck your
dick.
Oh, Banners, Banners, B.A.N.N.E.R.S. wa
wa wa
Assholes, Assholes…
They call us banners and we don't know
why,
We wish they would just fuck off and die.
Oh…
Blow job, blow job…
East or West or North or South,
She likes it best when I come in her mouth.
Oh…
Tit fuck, tic fuck…
North or South or East or West
My baby likes it best when I come on her
chest.
Oh…
Barfers, barfers…
Big chunks, little chunks, chunks
everywhere.
They stick to your shoes and they smell up
the air.
Oh…
Kinky sex, kinky sex…
Oh how I love those whips and chains.
They give such erotic pains.
Oh…
Trumpets, trumpets…
They can't get a hooker 'cause they're too
cheap,
So they went to a farm and they got some
sheep.
Oh…
Twirlers, Twirlers…
They like sex so much they made it their
job,
Even their batons have rubber knobs.
Oh…
Herpes, Herpes…
Take a girl out on the town,
Next thing you know it's spreading around.
Oh…
Mom fuck, mom fuck…
You take a girl out to the prom,
She won't put out so you fuck her mom.
Oh…
Baby fuck, baby fuck…
First you take a baby that's just been bred,
Then you fuck the soft spot in its head.
Oh… (for Baby Fuck – if you like that one,
you're a
sick mother fucker!)
Skull fuck, skull fuck…
You take a head and skin it bare,
You pluck out its eyes and fuck it there.
Oh…
69-14
TOASTS
Friends may come and friends may go,
And friends may peter out, you know.
But we'll be friends through thick and thin,
Peter out, or peter in.
Here's to you, and here's to me,
And may we never disagree.
But if we do, fuck you.
Here's to me!
Here's to your mother, and here's to my mother,
And may they never disagree.
But if we do,
Fuck it! Let's party!
Here's to the men we love, and the men who love us
But if the men we love don't love us
FUCK 'EM, Here's to us
Here's to the hole that never heals.
The more you beat it,
The better it feels.
Here's to the breezes that blow through the treeses
and lifts the skirts above the kneeses,
Here's to the spot that's oh so hot, it teases, it pleases, it
spreads diseases,
here's to the snatch, down the hatch.
When the weather's hot and sticky
That's the time to Dunk your dicky,
But when the frosting's on the pumpkin
That's the time for Dicky Dunkin.
69-15
YO HO
Format: Male only for first three lines, female only for her line,
all sing last line.
I put my hand upon her toe. Yo ho, yo ho.
I put my hand upon her toe. Yo ho, yo ho.
I put my hand upon her toe. She said, "Hey buddy, you're way too
low."
Get in, get out, quit fucking about, yo ho yo ho yo ho.
knee, "Hey buddy, quit teasing me."
thigh, "Hey buddy, you're getting me high."
tit, "Hey buddy, quit squeezing it."
twat, "Hey buddy, you're hitting the spot."
my cock into her mouth, "Awa…Mpth…lglm."
(slowly)
And now she lies in a wooden box, from sucking too many Hawkeye
cocks.
(female: YOU WISH!)(resume upbeat on get in, get out)
And now she's dead but not forgotten, let's dig her up and fuck her
rotten.
We dig her up every now and then, she did it once she'll do it
again!
RED RIVER VALLEY
1x with feeling, 2x upbeat
Won't you sit on my face if you love me.
Won't you sit on my face if you care.
And I'll gaze up your Red River Valley
And I'll munch on your sweet pubic hair.
Oh, if I had the wings of an eagle
And the balls of a hairy baboon
I would fly to the end of creation
And butt-fuck the man on the moon.
FEMALE VERSION
Won't you get off my face if you love me.
Won't you get off my face if you care.
'Cause your dick is so small I can't find it.
And I choked on a loose pubic hair.
69-16
MRS. MURPHY
Oh, take it in the hand, Mrs. Murphy,
It fells just like a rolling pin.
But if you roll it between your hands,
It'll take some time to be useful again.
Oh, take it in the mouth, Mrs. Murphy,
It only weighs a quarter of a pound.
It's got hairs on its neck like a turkey
And spits when you shake it up and down.
Oh, take it between the breasts, Mrs. Murphy,
And look it straight in its one eye.
It will lie at peace between your bosom,
Until finally milk-tears you cry.
Oh, take it between your legs, Mrs. Murphy,
It is just aching to crawl inside.
It has a helmet on it head like a soldier,
And it will shoot all its ammo then die.
Oh, but never touch _____'s, Mrs. Murphy,
It seems his is covered in scabs.
His has warts all over like a horny toad,
And protected by an army of crabs.
DOWN-DOWN (Beer Chug Song)
Here's to (insert name), s/he's true blue.
S/he's a pisspot trough and through.
S/he's a band fag, so they say,
And s/he'll never get to heaven in a long, long, day.
Drink it down, down, down, down, down, down, down…
(Sing "Why are we waiting" to "O Come All Ye Faithful" if the
down-down takes too long.)
POST DOWN-DOWN
FEMALE
Why was she born so beautiful,
Why was she born at all,
She's no fuckin' use to anyone
She has no tits at all.
Her, her, fuck her!…
MALE
Why was he born so beautiful.
Why was he born at all,
He's no fucking use to anyone,
He's only got one ball.
Him, him fuck him!…
S/he ought to be publicly shod upon,
S/he ought to be publicly shot.
S/he ought to be tied to a urinal
And left there to fester and rot, rot, rot!
69-17
MY FAVORITE THINGS
Blow jobs and hand jobs and eating clitoris,
Watching your grandmother douche with Lavoris,
Brown pubic cunt hairs on toilet rings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Getting a hard on while I'm at confession
Knowing that semen is good for digestion,
Eating out princesses, jerking off kings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the dog bites, When the bee stings,When I'm feeling sad,
I'll tell everybody I know to "EAT SHIT"
And then I don't feel so bad.
Tying my nuts off with Roy Rodger's lasso.
Hamburger Helper pounded up my asshole,
Flossing my teeth out with used tampon strings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Gummi worms frozen in Buffalo coolers,
Purple Bra with grapes and lemonade with vodka,
Margaritas in glasses and Agent in the fridge,
These are a few of my favorite things
When Chip's upset, When Marty yells, When Luann looks pissed
I simply remember those Friday nights,
And then I don't feel so sad.
69-18
WILD WEST SHOW
CHORUS: We're off to the Wild West Show-oh-oh,
The elephants and kangaroo-oo-oos,
Fuck the weather as long as we're together,
We're off to the Wild West Show-oh-oh.
And in this corner, ladies and gentlemen, we have the male, leper,
prostitute.
Fantastic, impossible, I say nobody shits.
But what the fuck is a male, leper, prostitute?
He's a very incredible man, indeed. (Indeed)
The male, leper, prostitute is the only man who quit his job because
his business fell off.
…we have the tattooed lady.
Fantastic…
She has a W on one cheek and a W on the other
And when she does cartwheels, she says, "WOW, MOM, WOW!"
…the other tattooed lady.
Fantastic…
She has "merry Christmas" on one thigh and "Happy New Year" on the
other.
And she invites everyone to drop by between the holidays.
…French limousine.
Fantastic…
It's the only car that you can get 8 in the front and 69 in the
back.
…a mathematical impossibility.
Fantastic…
It's a girl who was 8 before she was 7.
the Fuckawee tribe.
Fantastic…
They live in Africa and are three feet tall.
But the grass is four feet tall, so they run around and jump up and
yell, "We're the Fuckawee,
we're
the Fuckawee!"
…the Ohmadinky tribe.
Fantastic…
They're six feet tall and the brush is three feet tall.
And they run around yelling, "Ohmadinky! Ohmadinky!"
…the lion.
Fantastic…
It's the only pussy that eats you.
69-19
The Gospel According to Marching Band
I.
1. In the beginning, there was Jimmy the Howard of Reynolds (not the
wrap), and he was good.
And he was alone on the field. But lo, he was lo, and so he said,
2. "Let there be another to comfort me between the stripes. He shall
assist me well, you will C
(Mr.C, that is.)"
3. And beholden, there became Joseph of the C (trumpet). Strong of
lip and liver, but weak of
beard. And he was also good.
4. And in the darkness that follows Friday night they declared, "We
need a Stuart to bring us
refreshment."
5. And they begat David the Stuart (Editor's note: This was before
pregnancy. People begat other
people. Polaroid still holds the original patent.) He was forceful
of beard and marching hat, and
he was no Treble at all. They lived not in lack of comment.
6. Even so, one mathematical amongst them said, "We three are odd
(no comment) and are
desirous (again, no comment) of another to make it even (more
often)."
7. Behold there was a great paradiddle of thunder, and there arose
before them McKinney. Born
of double stroke roll and an Irish rim shot. He appeared to head the
percussion section, a cymbal
to their rhythm.
8. But alas, Reynolds went on a great pilgrimage across the great
sea to the holier land. "I shalt
return," he declared (year after year) only to become beer buddies
with a Jewish camel named Ot
(get it? CAMELOT).
9. Once again the mathematical amongst them declared, "We three are
odd (even more so). We
need a fourth (and a fifth).
10. And lo (very lo indeed) a cry came from the multitudes (Wahhhh)
"Whoest is worthy of
filling the gaping hole in our midst?" And from the Northeast came
Daniel of Phillips, bearing
many tablets of strange arrangements. Yea, younger than the eldest,
yet elder than the youngest
(Anyway, he was too young to wear contacts). Verily, the clouds
parted, and the thundering
voice (Lindy) proclaimed, "Thou shalt be called JUNIOR," and it was
good.
11. Lo, for 365 days and 365 nights there was prosperity amongst the
ranks, and beer and alcohol
ran freely.
12. But alas, during the third year, McKinney heard heralding
angelic jackrabbits on high
(probably a whiskey high), and with the land being short of sheep,
he returned to the jack-off he
went (to ride, ride, ride.)
13. Refrain (see verse 9).
14. The void was to be filled by Bob of MinYay(sic) who came bearing
many sticks of many
kinds. Upon his arrival, the search began for his replacement.
15. Taxes of many silvers were collected from the ranks, and William
of Rapp emerged from the
corps of the south, having a last name reminiscent of a banner girl
on Friday night. Strong of
corps and many steps was he. But alas, he was weak of beard (lacking
beard actually), and thus
they were complete.
16. But alas, after 730 days and 730 nights of sobriety, fair
William of Wrap heard his roots
calling. Before returning from whence he came, Will begat the new
Wrap (uniforms) to enclose
his followers. And it was good (better than before anyway).
17. Refrain (see verse 9).
18. And lo (still very lo) the wind blew from the East (Rhode
Island?). The wind brought us Sir
Roger of Cichy, a man strong of height, but weak of beard and wife.
And with him he brought
69-20
thine holy charts containing ye multigate steps and menstrual turns.
And thus they were
complete.
19. But hark, Harold angel sang. A message came down from the
heavens (or was it LaCrosse).
It was said that it is devine to gather a group of disciples.
20. And lo (even lower yet), the choosed were chosen. A group of
cultured (fermented) and loyal
followers came, (yes, we meant that) and the RWB's were formed.
21. They gathered at a place where many a brave keg had died. Thus
Cy's Roost was erected, and
once again the alcohol ran freely.
22. But bonedly hold Sir Roger of Cichy was struck down, and whence
he came too, Pat was
there. And lo (real lo) Sir Roger was no longer (Ahem!) weak of
wife. But he was still weak of
beard and arrangement. Alas!
23. But then the Harold sang again, and the disciples went out to
spread the word (and several
beer cans) and thus the Road Pirates overcame many a hard times and
New Jersey Metro buses.
24. Then from a far away land (I think in Illinois) came a moaning
and wailing, and Daniel of
Phillips was sucked out of the realm and they were no longer
complete.
25. Refrain (see verse 9).
26. But at the cumming of the new year, one came from the land of
the beavers who was indeed
strong of beard and fishing hat, and trustfully adorned with many a
tie and beer in pocket. And it
was good. The inscription on his door read: 'Patrick Miles, the
Amish Yuppie. Don't make me
write charts.'
27. Again they were complete.
28. But lo, the man with beard and beer in his pocket wanted to be
closer to the source of the
holy beer. Hence, he moved to Wisconsin to become another damn
cheesehead. Again, they were
no longer complete.
29. And so they sought one who was good with the horn. Hence Betty
of Busch and butch
appeared. One must wonder though, was she sent by the Beer Gods or
did Sir Roger hire her
because Ohio State was on her resume?
30. Once again, they were complete and all was good.
31. The great Beer Gods delivered a first occurrence for the loyal
followers, for after their
conquest of the turf au natural in City de Iowa, Sir Hayden of small
Fry complained about the
red and gold followers treadment of his beloved sod. Poor sod.
Hayden that is. He was right. But
so were the followers, two-sixty and three.
32. And lo, yet another tradition was born (Sir Roger's favorite
term). A small delegation of the
loyal drinkers assembled on Midwest chariot and rode to that land of
red dirt and sexual
problems. The alcohol ran most freely. Elvis came.
33. And lo, yet lower still, after the miracles (and hangovers) that
occurred on the first tradition,
a second was formed, twice the size of the first, in hopes that more
amazing things would
happen, this time in the land of Dorothy. But instead the rains
came. And came. And came some
more. And none of the loyal followers did, for while they were very
wet, they were also most
frigid. The worst was yet to befall our brave and loyal followers,
for lo, as they were in full
retreat through Misery, one of the traditions could physically take
no more, and died. This has
been read to be a symbol from the gods not to count your chickens
before they lay their golden
eggs. Or maybe it was Elvis and his seat assignments.
34. The land of cheese called again, and Betty of Busch and butch
went there in search of
students; the second horn instructor to take that route. Makes you
wonder, is it the beer, or
something else? Hmmm.
69-21
II. The Second Cumming
1. Harold (the angel) sang again, and behold, a bad moon rose above
the loyal followers. The
wicked demons of Beardshear (and other places) spoke: "We cannot
afford ye. Begone." There
was much moaning and bitching about. Many who had cum before
besieged the Demons, and
they reconsidered. "Ye may exist, but ye must stay in town." So
there was much rejoicing,
though it was limited to Ames. So alas the loyal followers spent a
season without a single mobile
hangover or overflowing hot tub.
2. Suddenly, there were two, for the disciples had lost not only the
Busch, but the faculties of the
Stewart were realized gone. So the search began, again.
3. Angel Harold smiled upon the followers (for a change) and
bequeathed them with Barry the
Doctor of Larkin, a man of varied and arid past. He quickly became a
bass beating instruction
and the head of fashion. A man strong of stick and sock but weak of
beard, he had an affection
for turtlenecks and long johns in September.
4. Being odd (some more than others) they were complete.
5. And lo (not quite as lo as before), there came a calling. Those
who came before us, decreed
that they shall provide for those who shall come after. And there
was much rejoicing. The gold
and jewels flowed from afar. And the followers traveled. First, to
the City de Iowa, then, once
again to the land of red dirt, sexual problems and beans. The
alcohol ran most freely once more.
Elvis came. And it was good.
6. And lo (the lowest it has ever been), the saddened followers bid
farewell to one of their
own...... Good-bye Nikki, we miss you.
7. Upon the cumming of the new year, a pilgrimage set forth for the
land of cheese and pigs.
Tents, crisco heads and sore butts were many, and all was good.
Until...Jager of Meister claimed
a Road Pirate for sacrifice. Hence, Ralph (Jen) of Web came forth
(and spewed a plenty).
8. Alas! On the fifth week of pig tossing, Utter terror hit the news
with suit of paternity leading
to a fullback swaying to and fro through the narrow roads of the
kingdom. And it was the same
as always. Post season...HAH! Walden...HAH!
9. Upon the cumming of the next September, Utter disappointment had
been replaced by Troy of
Emmit of Barry of Davis, who was strong of words yet weak of mind,
yet not so weak as those
who partook in an exchange of signatures on borrowed bank drafts.
10. And lo (not quite as low as before), the faithful followed the
convicts to the City de Iowa for
the annual drubbing. And the beer and alcohol flowed freely once
again, in spite of another false
interpretation of performance by a blind and deaf newspaper pundit.
11. Upon the dawning of the fifth week of pig tossing, the faithful
traveled once again to the land
of red dirt and sexual problems where the demons of Olsen spoke, "Ye
may follow us but ye
signing must be ostentatious toward us." And there was much bitching
and wailing about. Elvis
came and the alcohol flowed most freely.
II ˝
1. And then there was a great dearth in the writings on the heritage
of the I Suck Fum Bum, for
no more was amended until a Frothiness came upon the bible and saw
that it was good, and
distributed it anew, and far and wide it spread, as it was available
on The Internet.
2. And lo, (quite lo indeed) by this time seven seasons of pig
tossing had passed, and with the
season of 98 passed the great Joseph of the C, for the strength of
his liver had failed him, and he
was (and is) mourned greatly.
69-22
3. And into his place on the field stepped Martin of the Province, a
man weak of beard, liver, and
just about everything else. Whom spoke much like the sherfs of the
southern land of red dirt and
sexual problems.
4. Also having departed were Hayden of the Small Fry, having been
replaced by Kirk of Ferentz,
and Chuck of blind and deaf punditry, the voice from the clouds
(Lindy), and the tradition of
going to the land of red dirt and sexual problems. And Cy's Roost,
although only temporarily.
5. But not so lo, had been the year at the dawning of the New Era of
Pig Tossing, as the annual
drubbing was no more. The season was a loss, but the beer and
alcohol flowed freely and it was
good.
6. Upon the cumming of the next year of pig tossing, it was
proclaimed that the season could be
won! Yet it was not to be, by a margin on 7 points over the course
of the pig tossing. Much
bitching and wailing was made, but a trip over the Break of Winter
was still to be had.
7. For upon the Dawning of The New Millennium (or the year before,
depending on who you
ask), the followers were found in the land of Guinness. Yes, the
original one. For a great parade
was marched in, and beer flowed freely, and it was good.
8. With the cumming of the next season, the Great Fall came upon
Martin of the Province, and it
turned out he was strong of bone at least, as he arose uninjured.
9. And in that year, the angels called out "Eight and three" and so
it was, as the Great McCarney
led pig-tossing to new heights, including another drubbing of the
Hawks, this again on the field
of evil in the city of assholes.
10. And then a great bitching and wailing arose as had not been
heard, since the existence of the
band itself had been in danger, for the Demons of Beardshear called
out "We shall not send all of
ye to the Place of Bowling. Choose amongst thine own who shall
remain." The Demons were
again besieged by those who had come before.
11. AND SO BEGAN THE ERA OF POSTSEASON. The band entire traveled to
the land of
dry sands and Tostitos (although that was not to be theirs) and
while the beer was instructed to
flow not freely, flow it did, and it was good. And pigs were tossed,
and the righteous rejoiced.
Score another one for the good guys, and may the name of Insight.cum
ever ring true.
12. And lo, upon the cumming of spring, the Great Field of Clyde of
Williams was razed to
allow for more buildings. And the followers wondered the new
nameless field lost, for Taco Bell
and State Gym now lay in the SAME DIRECTION.
13. And once again the angels hailed the pig-tossing, the Hawks were
drubbed, the season was
won, and bowling went forth without the bitching and wailing of the
previous year. This time
the band traveled to a land of Cajun and Bayou, and with great
Independence pigs were tossed.
14. Alas, the last pig was kicked directly over the Pole in the Zone
of End by Tony of Yelk,
resulting in the loss of the game. Bitching and wailing almost unto
violence was made when the
Zebras of Four Ships made this declaration. But the beer flowed
freely (although ordered to flow
not at all, so they made pilgrimage to the hotel of the band of Red
Tide (much comment was
made, no comment here), a people from a land of more red dirt and
sexual problems than
Oklahoma could imagine) and it was good.
15. Lo about the nadir of the Time of No Pig Tossing, Marty of
Province announced that the land
of dry sands and Tostitos (although those can never be his now) had
called to him, and he would
depart.
16. Thus Matt of Smith came to the followers, strong of wife,
positivity, and weak of beard.
17. And the angels called out "To Kansas City!" and even the Demons
of Beardshear looked
upon Classic of Robinson favorably. No drumming of Florida State was
to be had because of the
69-23
Zebras of four ships, but the nation said "Who are these Cyclones of
Ames". And so began the
new season of pig tossing.
18. The season of oh-two brought yet another drumming of Kirk of
Ferentz in the city of
assholes.
19. In the sixth week of the marching, God looked down upon the
Cyclones of good AP Ranking
and allowed Seneca of Wallace to lead a destruction of the Fuskers
of Nebraska. The western
land of sand and red gave a great cry of sadness and despair. All
was good in the land of
Cyclones.
III.
1. This is our heritage. This is the primordial soup of our
existence; for out of their mouths arose
such a clatter, that the marching band was created, for what purpose
no matter. (Editor's note:
How did this cheap rhyme get past the proofreader?)
2. This band stretched far, leaving a great load of knowledge whence
it went, a steaming
compost of experience on which to grow.
3. And they followed until they found the promised land of green and
white.
IV.
1. Recall the ancient prophecy: "you shall reside in that place, a
wrecked angle of land where you
shall be 22 1/2 inches from thy neighbor.
2. And behold, Eight neighbors shall lie together, for they are a
rank. And you will section
yourselves off.
3. Lift up your leg and salute your section liter (or fifth). Bow
down before no other gauds.
Rejoice, for the spirits are amongst you.
4. Follow not the wrong path and let not the sheep be before ewe.
(recall the chicken-egg
controversy.)
Found on the back of the original arrangement of "Beer Barrel
Polka." Excavated in 1973. Dated
1979. Revised repeatedly including 1993.
Editor's note: A portion of this has been reprinted without the
expressed written permission of
the National Football League or the Commissioner of Baseball.
Fall 2000 Edition Revised By:
Chris Colvin, Tuba
Jill Wibben, Clarinet
Kristin Johannsen, Trumpet
Ed Jackson, Mellophone
Chip Andringa, Drum Major/ Trumpet
Leigh Ann Rice, Baritone
Casey Reynolds, Trombone
Olivia Truckenmiller, Sax
Nick Bertelsen, Drum
Fall 2002 Edition
David J Inman, trombone
Chris Colvin, sousa
Helen Gardner, honorary sousa
Jeynae Thompson, alto sax