The Omicron Zeta Songbook
NOTE: While approved for public distribution, this version may contain some strong language. Registered alumni may contact the High Kappa for brother-only editions.
- Cornell Songs
- Alma Mater of Cornell University
- The Evening Song
- My Old Cornell
- The Song of the Classes
- Fight Songs
- Give My Regards to Davy
- Hairy-Chested Men (To Hell With Pennsylvania)
- Lambda Chi Alpha Songs
- All Hail
- We're All Good Brothers
- Hip Hip Hooray
- Magic Carpet Ride
Alma Mater of Cornell University
The Alma Mater was written by Archibald C. Weeks '1872 and his roommate Wilmot M. Smith '1874, who set the verses to the ballad “Lovely Annie Lisle.” Cornell insists it is the first school to use the tune, which is played at the noon concert on the chimes.
Far above Cayuga's waters with its waves of blue
Stands our noble alma mater, glorious to view.
Lift the chorus, speed it onwards, loud her praises tell.
Hail to thee, our alma mater: Hail, all hail Cornell!
Far above the busy humming of the bustling town,
Reared against the arch of heaven looks she proudly down.
The Evening Song was first published in 1877 in the Cornell Era, and it is played on the chimes daily to close the day. This arrangement is by Henry Tyrell '1880; it has been sung to “O Tannenbaum” since at least the 1909 edition of Songs of Cornell.
When the sun fades far away
In the crimson of the West,
And the voices of the day
Murmur low and sink to rest.
Music with the twilight falls,
O'er the dreaming lake and dell,
'Tis an echo from the walls
Of our own, our fair Cornell.
Welcome night, and welcome rest,
Fading music, fare thee well.
Joy to all we love the best,
Love to thee our fair Cornell.
My Old Cornell
This song for alumni is actually only the refrain of the original song penned by Will Dillon '1917.
Oh, I want to go back to the old days,
Those good old days on the hill.
Back to my Cornell, For that's where they all yell,
Cornell, I yell, Cornell. (Cornell!)
Far above Cayuga's waters I hear those chiming bells.
Oh, I'm longing and yearning And always returning To my old Cornell.
Song of the Classes
Many more and less politically correct versions of this song exist.
I am the Freshman all timid with fear
I was nursed by my mummy, but now I drink beer
I miss my old bottle, it's sad for to tell
For soon I'll get busted right out of Cornell
Oh, it's one two, and three four, we all fall in line
To the tune of our profs we must always keep time
And it's work like a Turk till your eyes ache like hell
In this grand institution, this school of Cornell
I am the Sophomore with debonair look
My vile freshman manners I long have forsook
I used to date girls from Elmira and Wells,
But now in my opinion the best are Cornell's.
I am the Junior a-takin' my ease
I go to my classes whenever I please
I frequent the bars, and the barmaids as well;
I've not been a-wastin' my time at Cornell
I am the Senior tormented with doubt
You see, my time at Cornell has almost run out
The world situation has me quite annoyed:
I'm magna cum laude, but still unemployed.
Give My Regards to Davy
The official fight song of Cornell University, written by Charles Tourison '1905 and sung to “Give My Regards to Davy.” It is sung by a freshman (piker) to Registrar Davy Hoy '1891 and Professor “Tee Fee” Thomas Crane about getting “busted” out of school for drinking too much. The second, unofficial verse appears only in our songbook and apparently refers to an attempt under former Cornell President Deane Malott to ban room parties in fraternities in the 1950s. “Jim’s” refers to the pub at 400 Stewart Avenue today known as The Chapter House.
Give my regards to Davy, remember me to Tee Fee Crane.
Tell all the pikers on the hill that I'll be back again.
Tell them of how I busted, lappin' up the high high ball.
We'll all have drinks at Theodore Zinck's when I get back next fall.
Give my regards to Ezra, remember me to Andy White.
Tell all the virgins on the hill that I'll be back some night.
Tell them just how I licked it, lappin' up the brew at Jim's.
We'll all take shots at Deane Malott's when I get back again).
A song for football rival University of Pennsylvania, sometimes known simply as “Don’t Send My Son to Harvard.” Many versions of the song exist both at Cornell and at other institutions, though the tunes vary. One theory has it a parody of “Don't Send My Boy to Prison,” a folk song performed by Billy Bennett in the 1920s, whereas another traces it to “Sing a Song of Colleges,” of even older and more uncertain origin.
The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout
Down came the rain and washed the spider out
The sun came out and dried up all the rain
And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again
Harvard's run by Vassar, Vassar's run by Yale.
Yale's run by Wellesley, Wellesley's run by tail.
Princeton's for the pretty boys and drunkards go to Penn,
But far above Cayuga's a race of hairy men.
Oh we are the race of hairy chested men, hairy chested men, hairy chested men.
Oh we are the race of hairy chested men, and we are from Cornell.
We are from Cornell, we are from Cornell (Cornell!)
Oh we are the race of hairy chested men and we are from Cornell.
Don't send my son to Harvard, the dying mother said.
Don't send my son to Yale, I'd rather see him dead.
Send him off to Dartmouth, or better yet, Cornell.
And as for Pennsylvan-i-a, I'll see him first in hell!
To hell, to hell with Pennsylvania,
To hell, to hell with Pennsylvania.
To hell, to hell with Pennsylvania.
To hell with U of P#8212; P-U!
(innocently) We were only, only, foolin',
We were only, only, foolin',
We were only, only, foolin'—
The hell we were! P-U! P-U!
If I had a prick of steel and balls of solid brass
I'd find a marble statue, and ram it up her ass
We'd breed a race of giants, who'd roam throughout the land
To swell the glorious chorus of “the Quakers be damned.”
An adaptation of Godiva’s Hymn, sung to “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
Godiva was a lady who through Coventry did ride,
To show to all the villagers her lovely pure white hide.
A most observant villager— a Lambda Chi, of course—
Was the only one to notice that Godiva rode a horse.
We are, we are, we are, we are, we are the Lambda Chi's
We can, we can, we can, we can demolish forty ryes.
Drink up, drink up, drink up, drink up and come along with us,
'Cause we don't give a damn for any old man who don't give a damn for us!
Now men will come a long, long way, and men may go so far
To take Godiva from her horse and stand her at the bar.
But the one who took her from her horse and bought the girl a rye
Was a bloodshot-eyed fraternity man, a drunken Lambda Chi!
Lambda Chi Alpha Songs
Possessive of its independent musical heritage, Omicron Zeta has never regularly sung tunes from the national songbook, but they remain in the collection.
All hail, all hail to Lambda Chi,
Our fair fraternity
We'll laud her praises to the sky
Wherever we may be
In East, in West, in North, in South
Is found our faithful band;
To colors, purple, green, and gold
We pledge both heart and hand.
We're All Good Brothers
Oh, We're all good brothers, each one the other's friend
and we'll be good brothers until this world shall end.
So while we're together lets give a rousing cheer,
for Lambda - Chi - Alpha, the bond we hold so dear.
Put your arm around your brother, stand together man to man,
As we grow older, we're brothers in a band
That binds us together until the day we die
We're faithful forever to dear old Lambda Chi.
Hip Hip Hooray for Dear Old Lambda Chi
Let's give a hip hip hooray, for dear old Lambda Chi,
Let's give a hip hip hooray, and shout it to the sky.
We'll make all of the rafters ring when all of the brothers sing,
About the cross and crescent, because it's the grandest thing.
We'll shout it all day long, We'll shout it loud and strong,
For we want the whole world to know, (to know),
We stand together to now, we stand to win, and how!
For dear old Lambda Chi.
Magic Carpet Ride
A song adopted by Lambda Chi Alpha chapters across the continent. Words and music by Rushton Moreve, and performed by Steppenwolf.
I like to dream,
Right between my sound machine
On a cloud of sound,
I drift in the night
Any place it goes is right.
Goes far, flies near,
To the stars away from here;
Well, You don't know what we can find,
Oh why don't you come with me little girl,
On a Magic Carpet Ride,
You don't know what we can see,
Why don't you tell your dreams to me,
Fantasy will set you free.
Close your eyes girl,
Look inside girl,
Let the sound take you away
Last night I owned Aladdin's Lamp
And so I wished that I could stay.
Before the thing could answer
Someone came and took the lamp away
I looked around,
A lousy candle is all I found!