Jah3 Prison Blues
Music shamelessly adapted from “Folsom Prison Blues” by Johnny Cash
Lyrics by Sandy Busby and Johnny Hash
I hear the Hashers coming; They’re running round the bend,
Ain’t had a quiet Sunday since I don’t know when
I’m stuck here with these Hashers, the miles keep dragging on
But if I keep up behind them, I’ll make it down to Port Antone
When I was just a newbie, old Pothole said, now son
If you want to enjoy Jamaica, you’ll have to learn to run
So I kill some pints on Sunday, just to watch them die
You might find me on my back, smiling up at the sky
All those athletes among us, usually give it their all
Some jog, some walk, some amble, I just try to crawl
But we all get out of Kingston, far from that rat race
Settle down in the country, some quiet, peaceful place
No matter what the weather, No matter how hot the sun
We just keep a moving, pretending we’re having fun
Well I know I had it coming, I know I can’t be free
Cause those Hashers keep a running, that’s what tortures me
The trail was set by madmen, they’re all going to go to Hell
Only when they call Hash Circle, will I be feeling well
Far from mountain trails, that’s where I want to stay
Yet I hear that lonesome, On , On, and it blows my blues away
Yea, I’m right there with these Hashers, and we’re coming round the bend
We got coolers full of Red Stripe and money to spend
Let it all hang out on Sunday, no time to kneel and pray
Tomorrows a brand new week, there’ll be hell to pay
The Ballad of Johnny Hash
Lyrics : Peter Dent
Done to the tune of “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash
JAH3 and World Premiere March 2nd, 2008
I keep a close watch on my monthly cash
To keep enough to pay for the next hash
Although I pant, wheez , sweat, and always whine.
I sure feel great come down down time
I keep a look out for paper shreds
Remembering just what Constable said
On the run I will not accept tarriers
Because you’re with the Jamaican Hash House Harriers
I find it very easy to mistake the trail
I guess that’s what comes from being male
I plough ahead with no heed of the cost
Until I realize , oh hell, I’m lost
And then I hear the faint cries of ON ON ON
And in a fleeting moment they are gone
Thinking quickly, what would Shakespeare do ?
he’d say bugger it …let’s all have a brew
After the run, I’m feeling fit and fine
Because I’ve learned now, how to walk the line
I’m ready now for any other Hash
I just say Hello,…I’m Johnny Hash
Ceremonial HHH Songs
1: The traditional Hash Down Down Song
(latest politically correct version,
acknowledging participation of Harriettes)
Here’s to _______, he(she)’s true blue
he(she)’s a hasher through and through
he(she)’s a piss-pot so they say,
tried to get to heaven
but he(she) went the other way!
Drink it Down Down Down Down
Down Down Down Down
(continue or go to “Why are we waiting?”)
2: Why are we waiting?
(Clean public version;
Good for slow drinkers at the Down Down or
hurrying up barmaids and slow Hash Monks)
(Melody: Oh, Come All Ye Faithful)
Why are we wait-ing?
Why-y are we wait-ing?
Oh, why-y are we wa-ait-ing?
Oh, why, why, why?
Why are we wait-ing?
Why-y are we wa-ait-ing?
Oh, why-y are we wa-ai-ting
Oh, why, why, why?
(repeat as needed)
Hashing in the Sun
(with apologies to Harry Belafonte)
JAH-3 Hashers of Kingston Town,
This is the day when we drink and run.
What keeps us going is the Red Stripe beer –
Hope we can find our way home from here.
Oh, Hashing in the sun,
Up in the mountains, down in the sand,
All the trails we will run and praise
Our good fortune at being in Red Stripe Land.
If you follow the “On-On” call
Echoing from a higgler’s stall,
You’ll know it’s not your lucky day –
You’ll be stitched up by the R/A.
Hashers come from all over the place;
Different religions, gender and race;
Tall and short, thin and fat –
We all get a Down-Down when we get back.
I hope the day will never come
When I can’t partake of a JAH-3 run.
Then a prayer for one small thing:
Don’t drink all the beer and leave me Ting
(Submitted by TEAM DILDO – with sincere apoligies)
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink.
Thy will be drunk,
I will be drunk,
At home as in the tavern.
Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us.
And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.
For thine is the Beer, The Bitter, and the Lager,