The words of the Eton Boating Song were written by a master, William Johnson, at Torquay over Christmas 1862 for the school’s famous Fourth of June celebrations in 1863, an annual holiday with a Parade of Boats marking the birthday of King George 111, Eton’s greatest patron. The music was composed by Old Etonian Captain Algernon Drummond whilst serving with his regiment (The Rifle Brigade) in Lahore in India.  Contrary to popular belief, it is not the school song, which is Carmen Etonense. There are several more verses than those here, but these (Nos. 1, 6, 7 & 8) are the only ones generally sung.

The parody, on the other hand, has many alternative verses (and versions) and is often sung with a chorus (‘Bum-titty, bum-titty, bum-titty’) which is more for the rugby club. We deal only in sophisticated stuff here, as I’m sure you’ll agree…

 

THE ETON BOATING SONG

Jolly boating weather,

And a hay harvest breeze,

Blade on the feather,

Shade off the trees,

Swing swing together,

With your bodies between your knees,

Swing swing together,

With your bodies between your knees.

 

Rugby may be more clever,

Harrow may make more row,

But we’ll row for ever,

Steady from stroke to bow,

And nothing in life shall sever

The chain that is round us now,

And nothing in life shall sever

The chain that is round us now.

 

Others will fill our places,

Dressed in the old light blue,

We’ll recollect our races,

We’ll to the flag be true,

And youth will be still in our faces

When we cheer for an Eton crew,

And youth will be still in our faces

When we cheer for an Eton crew.

 

Twenty years hence this weather

May tempt us from office stools,

We may be slow on the feather

And seem to the boys old fools,

But we’ll still swing together

And swear by the best of schools,

But we’ll still swing together

And swear by the best of schools.

 

THE SEXUAL LIFE OF THE CAMEL

 The sexual life of the camel
Is stranger than anyone thinks.
At the height of the mating season
He tries to bugger the Sphinx.
But the Sphinx’s posterior orifice
Is clogged by the sands of the Nile,
Which accounts for the hump on the camel
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile.

The sexual life of the ostrich
Is stranger than that of a man.
At the height of the mating season
She buries her head in the sand.
When along comes the male of the species
And sees that arse high in the air,
He wonders if it’s male or female,
And says “What the fuck do I care?”

The sexual life of the bullfrog
Is understood only by some.
At the height of the mating season
He crawls up the arse of his chum.
But this vile orifice is quite ghastly
And filled with foul gases and slime,
Which accounts for the croak of the bullfrog
And why he says “ugh” all the time.

In the annals of civilisation,
From anthropoid ape down to man,
It is commonly held that the Navy
Has buggered whatever it can.
But recent extensive researches
By Darwin and Huxley and Hall
Have conclusively proved that the hedgehog
Has never been buggered at all

But theorems were meant to be broken
As in the text written above,
Regarding the plight of the hedgehog
And the boundaries of sexual love.
For one crafty ol’ Naval bugger
Left his memoirs to Harvard and Yale
Simply stating the fact that the hedgehog
Can be buggered by shaving its tail.