Gryphon 1962 - Adm.monash.edu.au

Bac k row : Graeme Foster Linsay Sm ith, Pet er Faulkner , J o hn Middleton, Lcs Moore, Nea le Ja ckso n, Bill Isbister , JohnKennedy, Neil Poloek, j Bill Den nis.M iddle row: L ins Saut er , Miek Flavell, Ra y Poe tcr, Geoff H all, Me. E. Middleton , Bob Sharpe, Bill Davis, Geoff Pile.Front row : Terry Salmo n, Seng On e , G eoff Watson, Linden Sampson , Ch ris Eld ridge , Peter T ur ner, Va n H ong. ABSENTBruce Kemp, Stuart Ki ng, Lindsay Juniper.A grea t footy match, "O h, wasn 't it gayl"The schoo l my money's spen t for,But what they rea lly mean t to sayThe school I gave up lent for,WasThe school that I repent for,"If we do n't stop fooli n ', we won't get no pay." Is the schoo l that heaven sent for me . eggh.(Su ng to the tu ne of "She's My Girt".)THE MAT IN G CALL OF THESampson the rnan that figur es.BLUE-CRESTED GLURKHe figures his time away.The sun streams in th ro ugh the window,nut he's cheerful eno ugh a nd says " Howd y".And warms the backs of our necks .To all who pass his way.The od d gla ss of ale on the ta ble .8M I all gathered aroundTerry was never on e to quibble.Talking of fact and of fabl e.Threepence a cup, a penuy a biscuit.He made money did Terr y the Salm on.Hairs Watson skolls in abandon,Hi s afternoon tea parties were just thing and a b itAnd says he mu st ha ve a haircut.In order to find his headThe sun streams in through the window,Amongst that mass of catgut.An d warms the backs of our necks.Now that we're leaving Ca utec,Neale J ackson of A7 renown,We breathe a sigh of nostalgia,Bores everyone at that ga thering And think of the da ys that have passed ,With theories of cra nkshaft and piston.Both happy an d sad they came.The gla ss on the table a-lathering.And we thin k of the tim eMr. TrokThe su n streams in through the win dow.Go t his head caught in that coffee gr inder old andAnd warms the backs of our necks ,grea sy,8M I I fea r is d ivided,And we made cap p icinn o hot a nd stea my.In favour of drinki ng or no .The for mer ignored and derided.T he ma n in the shoeshop dreads h im -The la tter of li tt le I know­He dives to th e depths of those du st y she lvesTheir minds wit h engines filled ,As Middl eton John approaches.T heir conve rsation just as sti lled .An d asks with a hopeful look on his face­"Size fourt een ?"The sun streams in through the window ,And warms the backs of our nec ks,T he sun streams in th rough the window,The teac hers are a hardy lot,And warm s the backs of our necks.Middleton, Deu tch er and Keller."Ru le Britannia" is th e cry!And it's almost impossib le to tellOn the beaches we will fight.Who gets the most of yon pill ow.Me nzies an d MacM illan quiverT he man from Mac 's they call him ,At Pott er's ad monishments of right.And he really ma kes you rollick.With cyni c and sick that no-one would know The sun streams in through the window,That really his name was Pollock.And warms the backs of our necks.If anyone here has been left outThe sun streams . in through th e window,Of this completely revolting parable.And wa rms the backs of our necks .Just keep on drinking, an d drinking, and drinkingThe school I rea lly went for ,As you 're sure to end up u nder the tab le.The school my mind is lent for ,- NIGEL SPON.42