Tuition goes up, up, up,
And the values go down, down, down,
Quincy House is the reason,
More room rents next season.
If you're in the red, try Dudley instead.
The students may groan, groan, groan,
But Seymour Harris says loan, loan, loan
The time is growing near
For 3000 bucks a year....
As the evening wore on most of the audience seemed to be singing itself into belief. They romped through This Land Is Your Land, The Banks Are Made of Marble, Dark As A Dungeon, and Die Gedanken Sind Frei.
The discontents and out-numbered conservatives had left early. Can't accomplish anything by singing about it. You can just confuse yourself. Solid citizens of the bourgeoisie singing union songs. Not even radical any more, just left-wing. Peace songs, brotherhood songs. Stop bomb tests? Hopeless idealism--may even be subversive. Can't stop them by singing anyway.
Their material's so corny,
Their motives are pure
And their spirits will never be broke,
As they go right on singing
In their noble crusade
Of teaching folk songs to the folk.