90 Lbs. POUNDS OF RUCKSACK
10th Mountain Division Marching (or drinking) Song
(to the tune of Bell Bottom Trousers, or a bluegrass 2-chord style)
I was a barmaid in a mountain inn;
There I learned the wages and miseries of sin;
Along came a skier fresh from off the slopes;
He’s the one that ruined me and shattered all my hopes.
Ninety pounds of rucksack
A pound of grub or two
He’ll schuss the mountain,
Like his daddy used to do.
He asked me for a candle to light his way to bed;
He asked me for a kerchief to tie around his head;
And I a foolish maiden, thinking it no harm;
Jumped into the skier’s bed to keep the skier warm..
Early in the morning before the break of day,
He handed me a five note and these words did say,
“Take this my darling for the damage I have done.
You may have a daughter, you may have a son.
Now if you have a daughter, bounce her on your knee;
But if you have a son, send the young man out to ski.”
The moral of this story, as you can plainly see,
Is never trust a skier an inch above your knee.
For I trusted one and now look at me;
I’ve got a b*stard in the Mountain Infantry.