She's a Grand Old School
(tune: She's a Grand Old Flag)
Written by the Class of 1979
She's a grand old school, of the high-ranking rule,
And beside her we'll stand all the way.
She's the epitome of drudgery,
But we love her, despite what we pay.
Every girl finds hope, without reason to mope,
When she sees that bi-college guy;
But for all that co-operation holds,
We're Bryn Mawrters until we die!
Though the showers may leak, though my roommate might shriek,
Though my all-female dorm is half men,
Though I've gained five pounds, Now here I've found,
That a single is lived in by ten!
Though our mental state has a dubious fate,
Still aggressively we agree:
That should all our classes be forgot,
We'll still have our Bryn Mawr degree!
We're a grand old class, from the first to the last,
Bound through laughter, depression, and tears.
With survival kits, we solidly sit
In the midst of your chaos and jeers.
And we find it's true that we're often times blue,
And we know that all this can't last.
And we're SENIORS, with three years past!