He Ain’t Gonna Climb No More

Tune: “Battle Hymn of the Republic”

Chorus: 

Gory, gory, what a heck of a way to die. 
Gory, gory what a heck of a way to die. 
Gory, gory what a heck of a way to die. 
And he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Verse 1: 
“Will it go around the chockstone?” called the belayer, looking up. 
Our hero feebly answered, “Yes,” and slowly inched on up. 
He was trying to drive a piton when his foothold crumbled out. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus: 

Verse 2: 
He slid on down the chimney and he quickly gathered speed. 
He shot past the belayer, who’s forgot the climber’s creed. 
An anchor to a piton would’ve been all he’d ever need. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 3: 
The belayer felt the rope pull taught and tried to let it run. 
But it jerked him from position and he knew his time had come. 
He left the ledge behind him and it shot up toward the sun. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 4: 
They sped on down the chimney and they passed the Southern Col. 
They had such good exposure that it made a glorious fall. 
They slithered o’er a friction pitch and sped on down the wall. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more.

Chorus 

Verse 5: 
The medic in the valley watched them through his telescope. 
And as they neared the bottom, his eyes grew bright with hope. 
For it had been a week or more since the parting of the rope. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 6: 
One had a rope around his neck and a piton through his spleen. 
An ice-axe in the rucksack had split the other’s bean. 
The trails of red marked their descent as they neared the slopes of green. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more.

Chorus 

Verse 7: 
They hit the ground the sound was “SPLAT” the blood went spurting high. 
Their comrades were heard to say, “What a colorful way to die!” 
And as they lay there rolling in the welter of their gore. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 8: 
There was blood upon the rucksacks, there were brains upon the rope. 
Intestines were entwined across the green and grassy slope. 
We picked them up in a lunch pail after salvaging the rope. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

He Ain’t Gonna Climb No More

Tune: “Battle Hymn of the Republic”

Chorus: 

Gory, gory, what a heck of a way to die. 
Gory, gory what a heck of a way to die. 
Gory, gory what a heck of a way to die. 
And he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Verse 1: 
“Will it go around the chockstone?” called the belayer, looking up. 
Our hero feebly answered, “Yes,” and slowly inched on up. 
He was trying to drive a piton when his foothold crumbled out. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus: 

Verse 2: 
He slid on down the chimney and he quickly gathered speed. 
He shot past the belayer, who’s forgot the climber’s creed. 
An anchor to a piton would’ve been all he’d ever need. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 3: 
The belayer felt the rope pull taught and tried to let it run. 
But it jerked him from position and he knew his time had come. 
He left the ledge behind him and it shot up toward the sun. 
Oh he ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 4: 
They sped on down the chimney and they passed the Southern Col. 
They had such good exposure that it made a glorious fall. 
They slithered o’er a friction pitch and sped on down the wall. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more.

Chorus 

Verse 5: 
The medic in the valley watched them through his telescope. 
And as they neared the bottom, his eyes grew bright with hope. 
For it had been a week or more since the parting of the rope. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 6: 
One had a rope around his neck and a piton through his spleen. 
An ice-axe in the rucksack had split the other’s bean. 
The trails of red marked their descent as they neared the slopes of green. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more.

Chorus 

Verse 7: 
They hit the ground the sound was “SPLAT” the blood went spurting high. 
Their comrades were heard to say, “What a colorful way to die!” 
And as they lay there rolling in the welter of their gore. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus 

Verse 8: 
There was blood upon the rucksacks, there were brains upon the rope. 
Intestines were entwined across the green and grassy slope. 
We picked them up in a lunch pail after salvaging the rope. 
Oh they ain’t gonna climb no more!

Chorus