It's not quite a song but i put up a poem a couple of years ago, not the best but seems suited to this threat..
http://www.chockstone.org/Forum/Forum.asp?Action=Display&ForumID=1&MessageID=80346&Replies=1
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the campsite,
climbers walk in, with the settling twilight;
As the jingling trad racks are hung with due care,
climbers and boulderers all let down their hair;
Now it's time to crack a bevy or two,
in some cases ten, tomorrow you'll know who;
As night settles in and meals are re-heating,
the campsite is chockers, at a premium is seating;
Tales of ascents and redpoints abound,
wow how some people do love the sound...
of their voice...
yes i know that didn't quite fit in,
but give me a break i'm new to rhymin;
In the distance a noise, it comes from the skys,
all those who look up have a glint their eye's;
A big metal carriage with blades underneith,
our collective breath catches, this is beyond belief;
There's a big bright red beacon leading thy way,
could it be what we're thinking, it looks like a sleigh;
The noise becomes louder and things become clear,
it's not what we thought as a buzzing comes near;
Overhead flies the chopper, it's here on a mission
to rescue some morons with too much ambition;
Looks like they thought they could nut one more out,
man where they wrong, go back to boy scouts;
Back to the campground a buzz with new talk,
and a prank here or there involving some chalk;
After a while the fires burn slow,
but the booze and narration continue to flow;
And here we come to the end of my jingle,
for tomorrow i get up to eat day old pringles;
A hearty breakfast, i guess not really,
but beer or pringles the decision is easy;
Tomorrow's a new day as we head off to bed,
remember this tale and remember what's said;
If you are thinking of ticking that finishing climb,
remember those morons and their embarrassing time! |