This is a parody of a parody, apparently, modeled upon "He Ain't Gonna Jump No More" 224. SHE AIN'T GONNA FUCK NO MORE (Gory, Gory Melody--Battle Hymn of the Republic My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the whore, Who had fucked all round Jakarta, but had never come before, She'd fuck and suck most anything and she had a running sore, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. CHORUS: Gory, gory, hallelujah, Gory, gory, hallelujah, Gory, gory, hallelujah, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. She hung around the Tankard and she danced at Tanamour, And with all the fucking that she'd done, she'd never come before, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. That whore went round Jakarta in and out of every bed, But though she tried with all her might, her cunt felt almost dead, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. She almost quit then in despair, but then she had a flash, She said "I've tried most every thing, but haven't tried the HASH! And all those wankers are so pissed up, they'll never see the rash," But she ain't gonna fuck no more. And so one steaming Monday night, she found the Anker truck, She could see by the crazed looks in their eyes that she would have some luck, So she strolled into the circle and challenged anyone to a fuck, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The Hash Master was in control and so he stepped up first, But sadly the man had drunk too much and overquenched his thirst, When he pulled his flaccid penis out, she laughed like she would burst, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The Joint Hash Masters took a turn, they stepped up one by one, But with each prick she gave a sigh, for still she hadn't come, She said, "You're no good at fucking, you'd best go back and run," But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The Masters of Music tried their hands but couldn't do a thing, One was so tired from running, all that he could do was sing, The other tried a shortcut, got his prick lost in her ring, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. Hash Cash stepped hard into the fray and tried to fill the breach, But when he put it up inside she said it wouldn't reach, So she grabbed the Secretary and she sucked him like a leech, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The Scribe stepped up and cried, "The pen is mightier than the sword," But when he jumped upon her she just lay there looking bored, She said, "You're really nothing when you've whored like I have whored," But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The Religious Advisor said a prayer and called upon the Gods, The only way to make her come was with his divine rod, But even with celestial help, he was like the other sods, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. All in the circle took their turns, the Germans and the Frogs, The Aussies, Yanks, and Pommies and even a couple of dogs, But the Dutchmen were the last in line to shed their running togs, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. When they all had finished she said, "There's something I must tell, I've laid here in the circle and watched all your pricks swell, But for all the good you've done for me, you can all go straight to hell," But she ain't gonna fuck no more. They each had tried her one by one as she lay upon the grass, They'd jammed it up her cunt and mouth and some had tried her ass, The one thing that they hadn't tried, was to fuck her all en masse, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. What alone they didn't do, they accomplished it in sum, With three pricks between each finger and eighteen up her bum, And sixteen each in cunt and mouth, she said, "I think I'm gonna come," But she ain't gonna fuck no more. The city bells began to peel, her body began to shake, Exploding rockets lit the sky, the earth began to quake, That one massive orgasm was all that she could take, But she ain't gonna fuck no more. And when they climbed down off her and they looked upon the ground, Nothing of her could be seen and nothing could be found, They said though she was one good fuck, she'd never be a Hash House Hound, For she ain't gonna fuck no more. Number 225 moved to parody file 226. SUPER HASHER Melody--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. From Paul Woodford, "Hash Hymns II" (Honolulu, Hawaii, 1994)