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HHUC Club Song

Written by Jim Elliott
They say that up at Bala

The diving’s mighty fine

Took up twenty trainees

            And brought back only nine

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of river dives,

            Gee Don I want to go

Dive in Ol’ Mexico

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

Tuesdays in the Music Room

            The lectures start in vain

For once you’ve learned the medical,

            You’ll never dive again

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of baro squeeze

            Gee Don I want to go

Dive in low H2O

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

Training weekly in the pool

            With ‘Doff and Don’ each time

The only secret of success

            An air tank on behind

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of Tuesday nights

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to Ontario

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

They say that up at Toby

            The Wetmore’s in good shape

I dove on it last summer

            It’s flat as a pancake

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of broken wrecks

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to Lae - ake Joe

            Gee Don I want to go home


They say that doin’ the circuit

            Will help you learn to dive

My only inspiration 

            is learn to do it dry

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of swimming lengths

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to Lake Sim – im - coe

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

They say that on the dive boat

            Be sure to watch at nine

Each night the moon will rise but

            It breaks a pane each time

 

Oh, I don’t want no more of broken glass

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to fresh H2O

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

They say that diving Hart House

            The pool is awfully clean

We trained in it this autumn

            It really is obscene

 

Oh, I don’t want to more of hairy pools

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to Etobicoke

            Gee Don I want to go home

 

Each year there is a dinner

            It comes about this time

With Blockheads all around you

            It’s hard to count just nine

 

Oh I don’t want no more of concrete boots

            Gee Don I want to go

Back to Galapagos

            Gee Don I want to go home




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