[basil ransome-davies]

I spent six years at Simon Langton.
The masters had the brains of plankton.
I failed to smother my revulsion
And got rewarded with expulsion.

[Roger Slater]

Fagin's School

At Fagin's school
I learned to pick pockets,
steal wallets and bracelets
and keychains and lockets
and solid gold watches,
and yet, most of all,
when I reminisce
it's my friends I recall,
those days we spent romping
down alleys to hide
when we were still young
and the world was still wide!
Oh days of my youth,
so fleeting and brief!
Time, it is you,
not I who's the thief!

[John Whitworth]

Cripes, Bazza, at my school the only thing you got expelled for was driving up with a bloody great van and nicking the lead off the school roof. NO I DIDN'T DO IT!

Nice work, Roger.

[David Anthony]

Originally Posted by Roger Slater

Fagin's School


Time, it is you,
not I who's the thief!

Humph! They didn't teach much grammar there, then?

[Roger Slater]

Of course, if there's an error, David, it is the Oliver Twist persona who is guilty and it is just my way of enriching his characterization. But since your comment I have heard from people with more impressive alma maters telling me that Oliver got it right, so go figure. My approach will be to talk out of both sides of my mouth until a consensus emerges, and then I will promptly join it.

[John Whitworth]

I'm on a roll here. We have lots of schools like this. It's a winner!

Alma Mater

Come to my school! All the goodies you remembered you shall find.
Not a whiff of tarts or hoodies clustering round to rob you blind.
Come to my school! It’s the High School where you never fall behind.

Though you’re neither apt nor clever, though your head is solid wood,
You will never, never, never, get a grade that’s less than good.
Cheer our new school, just for you school, flower of the neighbourhood!

All have won and all share prizes. We need no remedial class.
Glory comes in different sizes. None shall flunk, for all shall pass.
At our fair school, light as air school, no-one tumbles on his arse.

‘Excellence for all!’ our motto! Perish the elitist louse!
Education? It’s a Lotto game where everyone cries ‘House!’
Dull or bright school, let the right school light a torch that none shall douse.

[R. S. Gwynn]

This is too crummy to send in, but it was true at one time. Hail to the EPA!

Lamar! Thou site of joy unbounded,
By oil refineries surrounded,
Where football teams from other schools
Must add pollutants to the rules
And thus supply their musclemen
With face masks spewing oxygen;
Where women wearing pantyhose
Their naked skins do oft expose
When wafting gases, like a gulf tide,
Expose their skin to H2S
And nylon melts upon their legs
With a perfume of rotten eggs;
Where once a year the Seaport Co.
Roasts coffee when north breezes blow
And sends the students, free and clear,
A fresh-brewed hint of morning cheer.

[John Whitworth]

I don't think it's too crummy at all. It may be too American. The Speccie is a very parochial thing. Judging from the response here, this is a good deal more difficult than some of the competitions recently. Nobody, except me, has produced a hymn in praise of their real Alma Mater.

[Birthe Myers]

The first line of Alfred University's Alma Mater song is actually, really "Alfred, Alfred, mother of men."


Alfred, Alfred, mother of men!
We sang it and snickered and snickered again.
But the chemistry nerds made important components
For space ships and USA’s moon travel moments
While art students puttered with sculpture and pots
Some of it wonderful, some of it rot.
Many an artist received a good start
In Alfred’s ceramics department of art
At Alfred at Alfred, mother of men
Go right ahead, snicker, just like we did then.

[Marion Shore]

Hail to thee, oh Alma Mater,
dear old Party U,
unto thy festive memory
we ever shall be true,

where we made merry every night,
missed every morning class.
Thy motto's blazoned in our hearts:
In Vino Veritas.

Then hail to thee, oh Party U,
when all is said and done,
we didn't pass a single class
but boy we sure had fun!