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In the olden days
When we lived in the Barn
And there was no Belfry new
Everything that everyone had
Was slung in the cavers' stew.
In the olden days
We never washed
And the place was never clean
No washing up, and no-one cared
If the door was our latrine.
In the olden days
We boozed all night
And sang our filthy songs.
The girls were wooed by each in turn,
and no-one shouted his wrongs.
In the olden days
We always caved
Come sun, come snow, come rain;
We cycled here, we cycled back
Determined to do them again.
In the olden days
We all were young,
And our numbers then were small
We brought our grub, no need for Wells.
No-one at our beck and call.
In the olden days
We all were pals
Content to talk together.
We had no need of radio
Whatever the beastly weather
Gone, gone are the olden days
And ne'er will they return.
Weve grown up now (or we should have done)
But still for those days we yearn.
In days to come
When our bones are-laid
And our yarns of the past are stale
The B EC will be flourishing still
With the young, and hearty, and hale,
by C.D.S.
This was origionally published in Belfry Bulleting no 52 December 1951
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