This page is for all of the wonderful lyrics that make up the songs that give each team's its character.

Nothing quite expresses the feelings a rugger has unless it is done through song!

Anchormen Alma Mater

From the halls of Montezuma,
to the Moscow embassy;

We have blown our loads into the wombs,
of the girls who play rugby;

We don't give a fuck for syphilis,
we don't care if we get VD;

We'll do anything for a piece of ass,
We are R-I-C-R-F-C.

Bang Bang Lulu

(by John Valby)

(chorus)

Bang bang Lulu,
Lulu bangs all day;
Who we gonna bang on,
When Lulu goes away.

Some girls work in factories
Some girls work in store
Lulu works in Farmingdale
With 40 other whores

(chorus)

Lulu had a brother
Her brother’s name is Tim
Flushed him down the toilet
To see if he could swim

He made it pass the rapids
He made it pass the falls
When he reached the outhouse
She retrieved him by the balls

(chorus)

A rich girl uses a Kotex,
A poor girls uses rags;
Lulu’s cunt is so damn big,
She uses burlap bags.

(chorus)

Some girls like the fat ones,
Some girls like them thin;
My Lulu’s in the kitchen,
Greasing up the rolling pin.

(chorus)

A rich girl uses a Kotex,
A poor girl uses a sheet;
Lulu don’t use nothin’,
She leaves a trail along the street

(chorus)

End of the Month

You can tell by the smell
That she isn’t feeling well

As the end of the month rolls around (chorus)

You can guess there’s a mess,
Down there underneath her dress

(chorus)

  So Ay Ay hey,
What you got to say;
Shout out your orders loud and clear,
We got super, regular, large,
We got rags to fit a barge

(chorus)

you can bet it ain’t sweat
when her underwear is wet

(chorus)

you can tell that it itches
by the way she always bitches

(chorus)

  So Ay Ay hey,
What you got to say;
Shout out your orders loud and clear,
We got super, regular, large,
We got rags to fit a barge

(chorus)

but it’s great
when your favorite date
calls you up and says
Honey, my period ain’t late

As the end of the month rolls around

Who Gives a Fuck

(chorus)

Who gives a fuck,
What’s going on;
Who gives a fuck,
What’s going on;
Who gives a fuck,
what’s going on dear;
Go to the fridge and get me another beer.

My name is Jackie Gleason,
I am somewhere in the air;
I’m am putting on a show up here,
With Rock and Fred Astaire;

  I’m waiting here for Alice,
Richard Murton waits for Liz;
Liberace is on my organ,
And he says “how sweet it is”

(chorus)

Oh, my name is Richard Simmons,
I like to squak and squeal;
I love when guys undo their pants,
And deal me a meal;

  I’m getting lots of exercise,
dropping to my knees;
I’m just glad that semen;
is so low in calories

(chorus)

Oh, her name is Ellen Degeneris,
She came out on her show;
Revealing she’s a lesbian,
Like we already didn’t know;

  But I can save her years of therapy,
And a lot of fucking dough;
One episode with RIC Rugby,
She’ll be sucking cock like a pro.

(chorus)

And you go on in that manner...

Roll Your Leg Over

(chorus)

Roll your leg over
Oh roll your leg over
Roll your leg over
And fuck me till noon

I wish all the girls
Were like amusement park twisters
I ride the bitches
Until they had blisters

(chorus)

I wish all the girls
Were like holes in the road
I’d be the dump truck
And fill them with my load

(chorus)

I wish all the mirrors
Were like mirrors on a car
All of our dicks
Would appear larger than they are

(chorus)

  I wish all the girls
Were like girls from Connecticut
Swallowing after cumming
Is just proper etiquette

(chorus)

I wish all the girls
Were just stop their bitchin’
Fuck out my brains
And get busy in the kitchen

(chorus)

I wish all the girls
Were like tables in bed
When they blew me
I’d rest my beer on their head

(chorus)

I wish all the girls
Were paper machetable
I’d fuck them, discard them,
They’re biodegradable

The Beer Poem

The Icehouse was rockin,
Cuz the Shlits’ were all there;
Guy’s were popping silver bullets,
There was Busch in the air.

While Labatt’s blew a Canadian,
Jenny creamed up her twat;
Gave Southern Comfort to Samuel Adams,
While Molsen licked her Golden spot.

Pabst put up a Blue Ribbon and said we’ll have a competition,
To see which lady’s Honey Brown is truly fucking bitchin;
Killian’s read the results, Ms. Miller won, we laughed,
But when she spread her legs we all felt the Genuine Draft.

The orgy that followed was a real Wild Turkey,
I was spurned off the juice from my little Beef Jerky;
Johnny Walker blacked out and woke up to find,
Pete’s Wicked Moosehead shoved up in his behind.

Foster’s had a Spanish bitch,
but when he went to eat her;
he found her way too salty,
her name was Margarita.

St. Paulie’s girl was on the floor,
Her snatch filled to the brim;
Bud yelled out, “if her twat can’t hold it,
I bet her hiney can.”

And next to her laid Old Milwaukee,
His face down in some piss;
Gurgling like a pig,
It just doesn’t get any better than this.

So when you want a little wide mouth,
Or your brew’th needs some head;
Have an Amstel Light the sign,
That hangs above my bed.

Lick her in the front,
Poke her in the rear;
Suck my fucking dick bitch,
And spit it in my beer.

The Days of the Week

Monday is a working day

How's your father, "ALL RIGHT" How's your brother "ALL SET" How's your mother "TOO TIGHT"
How's your sister "ALL WET"
When's the first time "LAST NIGHT" When's the next time "TONIGHT"
Is everybody happy? "YOU BET THE FUCK WE AREEEEEEEE"

Tuesday is a licking day
Wednesday is a whacking day
Thursday is a drinking day
Friday is a fucking day
Saturday is Rugby Day
Saturday is Rugby Day
Saturday is Rugby Day
Sunday is a holy day.

(there are a few variations of the chorus)

Jesus Can't Play Rugby


Jesus can't play rugby cause he only has 12 men.
Jesus can't play rugby cause he only has 12 men
Jesus can't play rugby cause he only has 12 men
Jesus said, Jesus said, Jesus said.

Jesus can't play rugby cause his head gear is illegal
Jesus can't play rugby cause he's nailed to the uprights.
Jesus can't play rugby cause he isn't wearing cleats
Jesus can't play rugby cause he won't pay the dues.
Jesus can't play rugby cause his father would fix the game
Jesus can't play rugby cause the devil is the ref
Jesus can't play rugby because he has holes in his hands
Jesus we're only kidding, cause we don't want to go to hell (sang on one knee)

The Beer Prayer

Our lager
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed by thy drink.
Thy will be drunk, I will be drunk,
As home as it is in the pub.
Give us this day, our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillage.
As we forgive those who spill on us.
And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.
For thine is the beer, the ale, the lager,
For ever and ever
BARMEN

 

---More songs to be added---

If you know songs or additional verses, please e-mail us, we want to compile the most comprehensive list of rugby songs or songs that are worthy enough to be added to the rugby atmosphere!