No Kings? Hamilton Says Otherwise.

 by Joe Siano

It’s a sure bet that many, if not most, No Kings marchers love the musical Hamilton.  
Lin-Manuel Miranda, its creator, is a proud Progressive.

Ironically, Alexander was a strong proponent of a powerful centralized monarchy for the newly independent colonies.  He hoped to exchange King George III for King George Washington as America’s constitutional monarch.

How do you like them apples?

Madeline Clarke of the University of Missouri -- Columbia, writes:

From his writings in The Federalist Papers and in the Pacificus-Helvidius Debates, it is clear Hamilton never gave up hope on having a king-like president for life in the United States similar to Great Britain’s monarch.

“Hamilton’s plan allows a president to serve indefinitely with good behavior, with powers to veto any law; execute laws; grant pardons; direct war once Senate authorizes or begins one; appoint chief officers of Finance, War, and Foreign Affairs; and appoint all other officers, pardon treason, and make treaties with the approbation of the Senate.

…The plan also … establishes national supremacy over the states”

Alexander Hamilton was a smart and scheming guy.  As Washington’s aide-de-camp during the Revolutionary War, he was the General’s chief of staff and trusted advisor.   As such, he fully expected to be King Washington’s right-hand man with nearly plenipotentiary power over all states.

Young Hamilton would have been the unseen power behind the aging Washington’s throne.

No-Kingers also lionize former President Barack Obama, who oversaw a palacefull of kings.  He tried to sneak them by using the Russian title of czar. 

According to Politico, Obama’s Czars were:

·         Afghanistan Czar - Richard Holbrooke

·         AIDS Czar - Jeffrey Crowley

·         Auto Recovery Czar - Ed Montgomery

·         Border Czar - Alan Bersin

·         Car Czar - Ron Bloom

·         Central Region Czar - Dennis Ross

·         Domestic Violence Czar - Lynn Rosenthal

·         Drug Czar - Gil Kerlikowske

·         Economic Czar - Paul VolckerEnergy and Environment Czar - Carol Browner

·         Faith-Based Czar - Joshua DuBois

·         Great Lakes Czar - Cameron Davis

·         Green Jobs Czar - Van Jones

·         Guantanamo Closure Czar - Daniel Fried

·         Health Czar - Nancy-Ann DeParle

·         Information Czar - Vivek Kundra

·         International Climate Czar - Todd Stern

·         Mideast Peace Czar - George Mitchell

·         Pay Czar - Kenneth Feinberg

·         Regulatory Czar - Cass Sunstein

·         Science Czar - John Holdren

·         Stimulus Accountability Czar - Earl Devaney

·         Sudan Czar - J. Scott Gration

·         TARP Czar - Herb Allison

·         Terrorism Czar - John Brennan

·         Technology Czar- Aneesh Chopra

·         Urban Affairs Czar - Adolfo Carrion Jr.

·         Weapons Czar - Ashton Carter

·         WMD Policy Czar - Gary Samore

Whoa!  That's a lot of kings or czars or whatever you call them. That would have made their overlord, Obama, the King of Kings.  Many believe he is.  In another industry, he would be the capo di tutti capi. Which, to think of it, isn’t so far off.  After all, the government is only the most successful mob.

And what about Sweden?  Democratic Socialists point to Sweden as the exemplar of the caring collectivist society that they America should be.

Guess what?  THEY HAVE A FREAKING  KING!  King Gustav.  What about that, you crazy No-Kingsters?

And how about those celebs like Ellen DeGeneres, Portia de Rossi and Courtney Love who fled to Great Britain to avoid the current American President?  Didn’t they know that the Brits support a very expensive King and his messy family?

The American Left also has a soft spot in its heart for Islam.  The Council on Foreign Relations posed this question and answered it as follows:

How does the record of democracy in Muslim countries compare to that of other regions of the developing world?

Poorly. According to Freedom House, a nonprofit organization that tracks democracy worldwide, “the last 30 years have seen a trend diametrically opposite to the global trend toward political liberalization” in Muslim nations. This is particularly true for nations in the Arab world, many of which have taken steps backward in terms of political liberties and electoral democracy in the last 10 years. However, some scholars argue that the “democracy gap” that appears to separate Muslim nations from the rest of the world applies only to the Arab world.

That’s right, they are ruled by…..are you ready? 

KINGS!

Islamic kings don’t care much for drag queens, Gay Pride, women’s rights, free speech, or religious freedom.  If a hungry man steals an apple, they chop off his hand.

Israel is the only true democracy in the region, yet the Left has some serious beef with it.

Come on guys, do you want kings or not?   I’m getting some mixed signals.

In Democracy, The God That Failed, Hans Herman Hoppe offers this tongue-in-cheek apologia for monarchy. Since kings are kings for life, and their descendants after them, they manage their dominion for long-term protection of their assets and sustained growth.  They balance the needs of factions to maintain peace and prosperity.

By contrast, democratically elected politicians have a much shorter time horizon – typically two or four years.  Candidates make outrageous, even impossible, claims to entice key voter blocks.  Once in office, they will pillage the assets within their jurisdiction and mortgage the long-term future to please key interest groups and secure reelection. 

The opposition be damned.  To the victors go the spoils.

Jim Buchanan, Nobel Prize winner, and Gordon Tullock created Public Choice Theory, which applied economic thought to the actions of government officials.  It treats voters, politicians, bureaucrats, and lobbyists as self-interested individuals maximizing their own welfare rather than altruistic public servants.  It demonstrates how elected and appointed officials make decisions based upon what best serves their careers and jobs. longevity.

Neither Hoppe nor the Public Choice guys seriously advocate for monarchy.   Their thinking leads to smaller, localized governing units that are in closer contact with and transparent to their constituents.  The New England Town Meeting is a perfect example of how this works with a relatively homogeneous population.

The far-flung nation-state, with a heterogeneous population, governed by a distant, professional political and bureaucratic class, is an invitation to corruption and malfeasance.  Supposedly, one-size-fits-all rules, tailored to one interest group or another, are bound to chafe the remaining citizens.

Sure, you can march for No Kings, but it’s only a cult of personality, or ant-personality in this case.   The marchers do want kings.  They want kings that reflect their values and force dissenters to kowtow.

Our Declaration of Independence is pretty clear on this:

“Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed”

Withhold consent!

Trust not Republicans, Democrats, Trump, Obama, the Bushes, Kennedys, Clintons, or anyone else.  Look to the higher power.

·         “Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.” Psalm 146: 3

·         "Cursed is the man who trusts in man" Jeremiah 17:5

·         "It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man" Psalm 118:8-9

Michelle Obama said, “Go high”.  I say, go way high.

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“Half the people are stoned and the other half are waiting for the next election.
Half the people are drowned and the other half are swimming in the wrong direction.” 
- Paul Simon

Folk And Country At Two Guys

                                     

 by Joe Siano

My lifelong fascination with music started the moment the Beatles landed in Queens.

In those days, South Jersey had no “cool” record stores with passionate and knowledgeable staff.  What I had was the Two Guys of Cherry Hill record department with indifferent cashier clerks.

Two Guys was Jersey’s own Walmart before we had Walmart.  If it was legal and smaller than a car, you could get it at Two Guys

The Two Guys record department was my music Mecca.  Its alluring album jackets and enticing 45 sleeves called out, “buy me”, “take me home”, “make me yours”.  I was "the kid" and it was my "candystore".

But among the Rock/Pop, Soul, Jazz, Classical, and Vocalists (Frank, Dino, etc.) sections was the
aisle of Folk & Country.

To my knowledge, Folk was the tunes of bygone days.  It was songs like Tom Dooley, Shenandoah, and Red River Valley that Sister Miriam Gerald taught us at after-school guitar lessons.  They were fun and easy to play, but I was not going to spend what little money I had on Folk Music records.

And what was Country?  I had no clue.  Was it Roy Rogers singing Happy Trails at the end of each week’s show?  Little did I understand that the Fab Four music that I loved was steeped in the Rockabilly sounds of country boys Carl Perkins, Buddy Holly, Buck Owens, and their compadres at Sun Records and in Bakersfield.

Britannica confirms my early perceptions: “folk music, (a) type of traditional and generally rural music that originally was passed down through families and other small social groups. Typically, folk music …is learned through hearing rather than reading.”

In time, I saw that there were at least three factions in the Folk camp.

The first, I call the Archivists.  They adhered to the Britannica definition of keeping the traditional, old music alive.

The second, I call "Folkish" artists who perform original, copyrighted material in a folky style.  The Folkish folks divide into two factions:  The Winners and the Whiners.

The Winners were ambitious young singer/songwriters hoping for multi-platinum success in the mainstream music industry.  They bided their time and honed their craft, hoping to get discovered in the folkie coffee houses.   The pay was pitiful, but the stages were open to anyone with a guitar and cojones.

Papa John Phillips captured the zeitgeist in CreequeAlley:

John and Mitchy were gettin' kind of itchy
Just to leave their folk music behind;
Zal and Denny workin' for a penny
Tryin' to get a fish on the line
In a coffee house Sebastian sat
And after every number they'd pass the hat
McGuinn and McGuire just a-gettin' higher in L.A.,
You know where that's at
And no one's gettin' fat except Mama Cass

Mugwumps, high jumps, low slumps, big bumps
Don't you work as hard as you play
Make up, break up, everything is shake up
Guess it had to be that way
Sebastian and Zal formed the Spoonful
Michelle, John, and Denny gettin' very tuneful
McGuinn and McGuire just a catchin' fire
In L.A., you know where that's at
And everybody's gettin' fat except Mama Cass

And California dreamin' is becomin' a reality

Whether it was fashionable to admit it, these hippies were authentic capitalists.  They went all in, investing their youth, imagination, and effort for a shot at the brass ring.  They fought to climb the Billboard charts, win the hearts of music fans, and earn their slice of American Pie. As capitalists always do, these young bucks grew the industry so there was plenty more pie for everyone.

 

 

Pete Seeger was the preeminent Folkish Whiner of his day.  He was a card-carrying Communist.  The Whiners lined up behind Seeger, bashing American free enterprise and liberty.

Intolerant ideological twits that they are,  they booed and threw trash at Dylan as he tried to advance his art and audience by going electric at Newport.

The Whiners are no fun

Whiny Folk is a top-down phenomenon.   From their high perches in Cambridge, Palo Alto, and Greenwich Village, the Whiners sow discontent.  They have beehives in their bonnets about this country that gave them and millions of others a good life.   Allinskyists with strings is what they are, selling glorious revolution. 

Whiny Folk is a boutique item for the elite and the deluded.  The American masses never bought it.  Never have, never will.

I waded into the Country pond slowly.  The deeper I went, the better it felt.

By my senior year at a Michigan cow-college, Y'all Come Back Saloon and Kenny Rogers’ Lucille were car-cruising favorites.  These songs stirred the soul while breaking hearts.

In a bar in Toledo, across from the depot
On a bar stool she took off her ring
I thought I'd get closer, so I walked on over
I sat down and asked her her name
When the drinks finally hit her, she said "I'm no quitter
But I finally quit living on dreams
I'm hungry for laughter and here ever after
I'm after whatever the other life brings"

In the mirror I saw him, and I closely watched him
I thought how he looked out of place
He came to the woman, who sat there beside me
He had a strange look on his face
The big hands were calloused, he looked like a mountain
For a minute I thought I was dead
But he started shaking his big heart was breaking
He turned to the woman and said

"You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille
With four hungry children and a crop in the field
I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times
But this time your hurting won't heal
You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille"

Jazz great, Charlie Parker loved Country.  When his jazz peers asked what he saw in this hayseed music, he replied,  “Listen to the stories.”

In many ways, Country is like metal.  "We don’t have stars in metal, just fans who got on stage." 
Thus says Lemmy of Motorhead.

That’s Country.  It is bottom-up; real stories, by real people for real people. 

A few County fans may be saints, but most are sinners.  They drink, cuss,  brawl, cheat, formicate, get arrested, go to jail, love their kids, disappoint their loved ones, and struggle to pay bills.   They’re not proud of their misbehavior.  They are contrite, praying that Jesus forgives them

They know life is tough, their bosses may be jerks, and the government is not on their side.  Still, they believe America is the finest place of all. With perseverance, hard work, and faith, they will get by.  They get knocked down, but they get up again.

Country songs tell their fans that they are not alone. The songs tell of the many good folks facing problems like theirs.  The music helps them to blow off steam, shake their booties, and face another day.  It makes the beer taste better.

The Two Guys Discount Department Store and its Record Department are long gone, but now, at least, I appreciate the difference between Folk and Country.

Post Script

I spent my working career documenting my marketing investment recommendations to clients.  With that, I offer a Google AI summary of the Country and Folk audiences in my formative years.  I believe they hit the mark,

 

 And God bless Graham Parsons.

 

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“Half the people are stoned and the other half are waiting for the next election.
Half the people are drowned and the other half are swimming in the wrong direction.” 
- Paul Simon

Screaming Memies - Meme Collection

 by Joe Siano

10/12/26

9/2/26

7/4/26

1/4/2024

9/26/23

9/24/23

4/2/21

3/11/21

1/31/21

1/23/21

1/21/21

1/19/21

 11/15/20

 

11/10/20

11/18/20

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“Half the people are stoned and the other half are waiting for the next election.
Half the people are drowned and the other half are swimming in the wrong direction.” 
- Paul Simon

Red Neck, While Trash, Blue Blazers

by Joe Siano

An American radical for capitalism and Christian culture warrior looks back at 70.

Part One – Red Neck

Freebird's long, languid opening licks stir my soul.

Like Philly boy, Ray Benson, I’m a Southerner at heart.  Ray saw “miles and miles of Texas” and never looked back.

I hail from the east side of the Delaware. From New Jersey.  South Jersey, that is.  Our North Jersey neighbors have gone on record that the southernmost part of the Garden State is Ghetto, populated with Pineys (Jersey's hillbillies), Trash, and is “Pretty Much Alabama”.  Sweet Home Alabama.

Yeah, I’m a displaced redneck, all right.  I have a taste for biscuits and gravy, barbecue, bourbon, collards, cornbread, Krispy Kreme, Cajun and Creole delights. I love Bob Wills, Bill Monroe, Hank, Waylon, Willie, Patsy, Dolly, and the Opry.   Emmy Lou is my queen, but I’m becoming an Ella Fella.

And I tip my hat to those patriotic Southern gentlemen and good ol’ boys who stood up for their homeland in Mr. Lincoln’s war.  Heroes one and all.

Need I point out that the Treaty of Paris, which ended the War for Independence, was concluded with one country on one side (Great Britain) and thirteen newly sovereign nation-states on the other.  The text lists them individually as parties to the accord

"His Britannic Majesty acknowledges the said United States, viz., New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, to be free sovereign and Independent States; that he treats with them as such”

Each former colony was recognized as a free, sovereign, and independent state, just as France, Germany, or Italy are sovereign and independent states.  

America's newly independent states banded together in a federation for shared purposes just as our European friends band together for mutual benefit in the EU.  It was always understood that any nation could leave at any time, as the Brits did with Brexit.

On this side of the pond, the Founding Fathers understood that any or all of the states could withdraw from the federation if it ceased to serve their interests.

By 1860, the South was getting seriously hosed by the North with no solution in sight.  Federal government policies were skewed heavily in favor the North to the detriment of the Southern states

An essay by Matthew Miller put it succinctly:

By the mid-19th century, the United States had become an economic house divided. The North, rapidly industrializing, favored protectionist tariffs to shield its manufactured goods from foreign competition. The South, agrarian and dependent on exporting its cotton and other cash crops to Europe, required free trade to prosper—or at least minimal, temporary protectionist tariffs. The federal government, under Northern control, increasingly imposed tariffs that extracted wealth from the South and simultaneously benefited the North. They were not merely policies of economic preference but instruments of exploitation, as much of the wealth extracted was spent on Northern internal improvements.

The political hurdles to overcome this were insurmountable.  The Northern Republicans held a 147 to 87 seat advantage in the House, and a 17 to 15 edge in the Senate.   Lincoln was a minority president, garnering less than 40% of the popular vote while carrying zero Southern states.

If “no taxation without representation” was just cause for the thirteen colonies to sever ties with the Motherland, then no taxation without effective representation is an equally plausible reason for Southern secession.

As they did four score and four years ago, the Southerners asserted their right to peacefully exit a bad deal. This time, Abe Lincoln played the role of King George.  The North pressed its overwhelming advantage in manpower, money, and machinery to crush the agrarian Southern upstarts for the benefit of its bankers, merchants, and industrialists.

Just because they won did not justify the carnage of Mr. Lincoln’s war.  Might does not make right.

God bless Virgil Kane.  God forgive those who visited pain, death, and destruction on his homeland and his family.

And please do not say that the War Between the States was a struggle to end slavery.

Lincoln’s Republican Party platform was committed to preserving slavery where it already existed.  In a letter to newspaper publisher Horace Greeley, President Lincoln confessed: “My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union… If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it,”.

In that same letter, Lincoln, who was a philosophical descendant of Alexander Hamilton, declared that he sought national authority to be restored. 

Two years after the North commenced hostilities, the Emancipation Proclamation was proclaimed as an afterthought.  It was a propaganda ploy to clothe a tawdry cash grab in a cloak of moral righteousness.

As always, it was all about the Benjamins, or whoever’s face was on the currency back then.

Despite the soaring rhetoric of his Gettysburg Address, Lincoln’s vision of centralized authority is anathema to liberty.  Thoreau nailed it.  "That government is best which governs least"

‘Nuff said.

 

Part Two – White Trash

A cursory look at my pigmentation and features suggests that I am of European lineage.  What we call “White”.

The man and woman who conceived me disposed of me at birth.   That makes me “trash”.  White Trash.

Fortunately, I was gestating in an era when unwanted babies were put onto the salvage heap for others to claim.  Had my birth mom been pregnant with me twenty years later, I probably would have been disposed of with the medical waste.

It could well have been a hard-knock life for me. Luckily, a loving, childless couple, Joe and Kay Siano, rescued me.  Praise Jesus!

I can’t say much about White Privilege, except that I was privileged to have them pour their heart, soul, time, talents, and treasure into giving me an awesome childhood and every advantage they could afford.

Think of Steve Jobs, another infant adoptee of my generation, and the wonderful working-class couple that adopted him.  Steve may never have had the opportunity to change the world without the love and support of his adoptive parents.

Consider the case of Tim Tebow.  Doctors advised his mom to abort him.  But Mamma Tebow said “no”.
Her baby, Tim, went on to win a Heisman Trophy and two national championships.  The Associated Press honored him as the GOAT college quarterback.

Dr. Fauci might say Tim's mom was“anti-science” for ignoring the advice of “medical professionals”.

If life is like a box of chocolates. so is every child in the womb.  You never know what you're going to get – a Steve Jobs, a Tim Tebow, or me.

Where there is life, there's hope.  Choose life.

Part Three – Blue Blazers

Mr. Lincoln’s war began a long erosion of states' rights as the newly invigorated central government grew in size, strength, and ambition.  The odious, post-war Fourteenth Amendment pushed national, one-size-fits-all solutions onto the states and localities.

In this instance, the long arm of Uncle Sam reached down to the sleepy burb of Pennsauken.  It handed my folks notice that I was to be removed from our nearby school and bused far across town to satisfy some DC bureaucrat’s notion of social justice.

Ma and Pa Siano would have none of that for their precious boy. 

Even Joe Biden, while he was still cogent, knew busing was stupid.  In a 1977 Senate Judiciary hearing, young Joe said, “Unless we do something about this, my children are going to grow up in a jungle, the jungle being a racial jungle with tensions having built so high that it is going to explode at some point.” 

During the 2020 Democratic debates, Kamala Harris wiped the floor with old Joe over this.  It was her proudest moment.

Back to my story.  My folks elected to forgo a no-charge public school education and pay for me to attend a newly opened Catholic school within walking distance of our house.

They had no money to spare.  They worked multiple blue-collar jobs so that I might be a blue-blazer boy.   They sacrificed time, energy, and money for my education and a shot at the American Dream.

At St. Stephen’s, boys wore blue blazers, white shirts, blue ties, and dark pants.  The girls wore blue

jumpers over white blouses. Their skirts had to be no more than an inch or two above the floor when measured from a kneeling position.

School days were highly regimented.  One teacher, usually a nun, had to ride herd over sixty kids, for six hours every day.  We processed into the building and took our assigned seats in height order and in silence.  We spoke only when spoken to.  Discipline came swiftly. Sometimes painfully.

Detailed homework assignments were written on the blackboard and were expected to be copied into our notebooks word-for-word. 

Parents were expected to read the assignments, review that work, and sign off on the completed tasks.
Failure to comply resulted in swift discipline.  Sometimes painful for tough guys.

When classroom control slipped, our Pastor jumped into the breach.

Father (later Monseigneur) John O’Brien was a fire-breathing, short-fused, old-school martinet from the Old Sod.  OB sported a huge turnip head atop a tree trunk body with ham hock mitts that would do any pugilist proud.  He was the avenging angel who made “promises” of reprisal, not “threats”.

We would later understand that the fire breath was Camels and cheap scotch.

Forgive me for quoting liberally from the Kinks' underappreciated Schoolboys in Disgrace album.  Its lyric poetry evokes my time at St. Stephen's.

From an ocean away, rock's Poet Laureate captured OB's essence:

Boys like you were born to waste,
You never listen to a word I say
And if you think you're here to mess around,
You're making a big mistake,
'Cos you're gonna find out the hard way,
You gonna find out the hard way.

No matter what I do or say,
You're much too dumb to educate.
One day life's going to turn around and slap you in the face,
Then you're gonna find out the hard way.
You'll take the hard way,
Gonna take the hard way.

Well, you'll do it your way and I'll do it my way,
And we'll see who's the one to survive.
You'll find that with no foundation
Or qualifications
There's no way that you can get by,
No, there's no way you can get by.

Why don't you take the easy way?
Why don't you co-operate?
Don't just sit there and vegetate.
Do you want to end up illiterate?
You think that life's a vacation
And you've no inclination
To dust away the cobwebs of your mind.
Now it's time for confrontation
And I'm tired of being patient,
So I've got to be cruel to be kind.
Yeah, I've got to be cruel to be kind.

I'm wasting my vocation teaching you to write neat
When you're only fit to sweep the streets.
Your intellect is such
That it requires a killer's touch.

So I'm going to play it your way,
We'll take the hard way.
Going to take the hard way,
You can take the hard way.
Gonna take the hard way,
Gonna take the hard way.

 

They pushed us.  We pushed back. Eight years of jostling and sparring, punching and ducking.  We took our hits, but like the Bayonne Bleeder, we hung in and never backed down.

Frankie was the role model., "I faced it all, and I stood tall, and did it my way”

Old Freddy Nietzsche got this one right. "Out of life's school of war—what does not kill me makes me stronger."

He could not have been more correct.  By not being mollycoddled, we learned our 3Rs,  and became resilient.  We grew up to be accountable, responsible, and self-supporting men and women.

Like Marines forged at Parris Island, the Blue Blazer Boys and Blue Jumper Girls owe a debt to St. Stephen’s and our parents who sent us there.  It’s a tribute to the Greatest Generation that they wanted even greater things for their kids and were willing to sacrifice for it.  

Our moms and dads pushed us towards “greatness”.  A greatness not measured in dollars and cents, but in faith, loyalty,  and character.

So, let’s close with Mr. Davies as he fondly recalls his old school:

If ever you think about the happiest days of your life
Cast back your mind for a while
And remember the time when you were a child
Don't think of things that make you sad
Just remember all the good times that you had

Do you remember only happy days
Full of flaming Junes and summer holidays?
Or do you remember those stormy Novembers
As we walked in the wind and the rain?
Schooldays were such happy days
Now they seem so far away
I remember and I'll always treasure
Schooldays were the happiest days of your life
But we never appreciate the good times we have
Until it's too late

I miss all the acquaintances we made
And I'd go back if I could only find a way
Schooldays were the happiest days
Though at the time they filled me with dismay
We only remember what we choose to remember
When I was a schoolboy I loathed regulations and rules
I hated my textbooks and my school uniform
'Cos it made me conform
And teachers were always disobeyed

But I'd go back if I could only find a way

Feel the lump in his throat upon leaving.

                                                         As I walked to the last assembly,

There were tears in the back of my eyes,

And I saw all my friends all around me,

They were there to wish me goodbye.

As I stood in a line with my comrades,

I felt such a feeling of pride,

And I forgot all the grief and the hatred inside,

As we sang for the very last time.

Gather round, gather round,

Everybody gather round.

Come and join our last assembly,

Let us smile, wipe away all the frowns.

Gather round, gather round,

Everybody gather round.

As we stood at the last assembly,

All my friends came to wish me goodbye.

God bless you, Rednecks, White Trash “deplorables,” and especially you Blue Blazer Boys and Blue Jumper Girls who roamed St. Stephen's hallowed halls

Rock on!  We’re still standing.

 

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