The M-Climb Fight Song


I wish I had a barrel of rum and sugar three-hundred pounds,
The college bell to mix it in and clapper to stir it 'round.
Like every honest fellow, I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech, a helluva engineer.

A helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva engineer,
A helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva engineer,
Like every honest fellow, I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech, a helluva engineer.

Hail, hail the gang's all here
What the Hell do we care,
As long as we get our share?
M - I - N - E - S!
What the Hell do we care now?

 

The Mining Engineer


I wish I had a barrel of rum and sugar three-hundred pounds,
The college bell to mix it in and clapper to stir it 'round.
Like every honest fellow, I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech, a helluva engineer.

A helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva engineer,
A helluva, helluva, helluva, helluva engineer,
Like every honest fellow, I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech, a helluva engineer.

And if I had a daughter, I'd dress her up in green,
I'd send her up to Boulder to coach the football team.
But if I had a son, sir, I'll tell you what he'd do,
He'd yell "To hell with Boulder," like his daddy used to do

Now here we have the mining man, in either hand a gun
He's not afraid of anything, and he's never known to run.
He dearly loves his whiskey, and he dearly loves his beer,
He's a shooting, fighting, dynamiting mining engineer.

If you want to gear the planets that revolve around the sun,
We'll do the job up nicely, and we'll only call it fun,
And if you want a bridge to Mars, or a ten-foot shaft to hell,
We're the engineers of a thousand years,
and we'll do the job right well.

The engineers of a thousand years, and we'll do the job right well.
The engineers of a thousand years, and we'll do the job right well.
And if you want a bridge to Mars, or a ten-foot shaft to hell,
We're the engineers of a thousand years,
and we'll do the job right well.

The Mining Engineer, as written in the 1937 Prospector


Oh, I wish I had a barrel of rum
And sugar three-hundred pounds,
The college bell to mix it in,
And clapper to stir it 'round.
Like every honest fellow,
I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech,
and a mining engineer.

I'm a mining, mining, mining,
Mining, mining, engineer.
I'm a mining, mining, mining,
Mining, mining, engineer.
Like every honest fellow,
I take my whiskey clear,
I'm a rambling wreck from Golden Tech,
And a mining engineer.

And if I had a daughter,
I'd dress her up in green,
And send her up to Boulder
To coach the football team.
But if I had a son, sir,
I'll tell you what he'd do,
He'd yell "To hell with Boulder,"
Like his daddy used to do

Now here we have the mining man,
In either hand a gun
He's not afraid of anything,
He's never known to run.
He dearly loves his whiskey,
And he dearly loves his beer,
He's a shootin', fightin',
Dynamitin' mining engineer.

If you want to gear the planets
That revolve around the sun,
We'll do the job up nicely,
and we'll only call it fun,
But if you want a bridge to Mars,
Or a ten-foot shaft to hell,
We're the engineers of a thousand years,
and we'll do the job right well.