Date:         Fri, 02 Jun 95 08:52:26 CDT
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         Joel Walker <JWALKER@ua1vm.ua.edu>
Subject:      FFFFriday: Ode to BBTA/GNATT

ok. the only title to the tune of this mess (that i know of) is called
"the cruising boys of sub division 9", some old navy ditty. but i think
it was originally called "tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching" ...
or something like that. what the hell, make up your own tune. :)


<chorus>
Bus, Bus, Buses by the Arch VIII!
Tramping through rain, and muck, and mud!
While we waited for the day
For the rain to go away,
The mosquitos flew around and sucked our blood!


>From New York to Show-Me-State,
They had often tempted fate,
With their horde of food and engine parts to spare.
Then some food went in the fire,
As the flames got higher and higher;
Soon ... KaBOOM, and there was Tuna everywhere.

<chorus>

All of Texas seemed to be,
Gathered round for revelry,
At least a dozen cowboys came to stay ...
With their really neato camp,
They shrugged off the chill and damp,
And they had a blast with every passing day.

<chorus>

>From Diego's sunny land,
There came Dave's enormous van
With the solar panels mounted on the top.
The only problem came:
That his power output's lame,
Cause he couldn't get the stinking rain to stop!

<chorus>

Sami brought his camper there,
But it wasn't really fair,
Cause his wife drove out and brought their Honda, too.
So while we were stuck in place,
They could crank it up and race
All the way back home ... at least a mile or two!

<chorus>

>From Virginia's rolling hills,
Came Pete Sellers, seeking thrills,
As he westward drove his newer Eurovan.
When he set up camp with pride,
All the stuff he had inside
Took up room enough to park two other vans!

<chorus>

Then in Sunday's morning hours,
Did it cease the rain and showers,
And the sun began to dry our little sewer,
So we packed and sallied forth,
As we headed farther north,
On the Great North Am Ter-ran-sport-tator Tour.

<chorus>

With the wind across our bow,
We still struggled on somehow,
Until we late had made it to the camp,
Where Mike Wright would drive die Frau
And he found us all somehow
As we slept beside the Mississippi damp.

<chorus>