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The Swinesend School Song

The origin of the Swinesend School Song is lost in the mists of antiquity. Some say it was pinched off a more famous school in the 1960s. Others suggest that it was composed by an unusually perceptive member of the Upper Fourth. The school authorites claim the ditty dates back to some war or other. Whatever the truth, a rendition of Schola Swinesendia never fails to bring a tear to the eye and, ideally, should be roared to the tune of De Brevitate Vitae (Gaudeamus Igitur) while swigging port and resting your feet in the fender.

So sit back, listen and join in by singing the words below. And if you have to work for a living, ask your colleagues to sing along too - an ideal way to sort out the wheat from the chaff.

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Schola Swinesendia

In dark days, England, Swinesend doth,
Offer up its precious youth.
In noble deeds and feats of valour,
None can match the Swinesend scholar.

Swinesend, Swinesend, hallowed school,
Childhood home of those who rule.

The playing fields gave us our strength,
To lead and go that extra length,
In punishing the heathen ranks,
On foot, on horseback and in tanks.

Swinesend, Swinesend, &c

No fairer blood was ever shed
Than that the dear old school hath bred;
To dauntless face the cannon ball
And die a credit to us all.

Swinesend, Swinesend, &c

When danger's past, in days serene,
Our noble lads both bright and keen
Tend the fields and lease the land
To profit from the common band.

Swinesend, Swinesend, &c

In commerce, chambers or the Church,
The lessons taught us with the birch,
Make us want to swap our suits,
For rubber, fishnets and rare fruits.

Swinesend, Swinesend, &c

And when the final trumpet sounds
The annual eighteen thousand pounds
Secures for every old Swinesian
A posting to St Michael's legion.

Swinesend, Swinesend, &c