(Sung to the tune of We Three Kings)
We hashers of Portland are,
Running out of yonder bar,
Parks and fountain,
Swamp and mountain,
Following flour afar.
O flour of wonder, flour so bright,
Flour appearing out of the night,
Where we going, never slowing,
Guide us to the beer tonight.
Hare is running to lead the way,
To the beer check so far away,
Follow we must, though we’ll all cuss,
Even if it takes all day.
The hounds shout on-on oh so loud,
Leading forth the drunken crowd,
Running and stalking, even walking,
Climbing the hills so high.
O flour of wonder, flour so bright,
Flour appearing out of the night,
Where we going, never slowing,
Guide us to the beer tonight.
Beer is mine, it’s bitter perfume,
For one more there’s always some room,
Pissing, drinking, sweat is stinking,
Flashing the yonder moon.
Glorious bastards circle around,
Look our RA singing proud,
Call them all up, pour them a cup,
Yell down down oh so loud.
O flour of wonder, flour so bright,
Flour appearing out of the night,
Where we going, never slowing,
Guide us to the beer tonight.