Bulldog Pie Lyrics

This parody of Don McLean's American Pie was performed at commencement by Joshua Kaplowitz and Michael Frazer (vocals), Abraham Levitan (keyboard), Jacob Schwartz (guitar), Isaac Weiner (drums), and Victor Kao (bass).  Lyrics by Michael Frazer, Joshua Kaplowitz, and Paul Ehrlich.

The song is available here in MP3 format (10.1 Mb).  If you have trouble downloading this file in your browser, FTP to this web server and log in using the name "class2000 and the password "bulldog2000" (without the quotation marks).

Bulldog Pie

A long, long time ago
I can still remember how the mailman used to make me schvitz
I knew if I had any class
I couldn't go to Cambridge, Mass.
And study with the likes of Alan Dershowitz

But April put my fears to rest
I got into the very best
Great news on the doorstep
I wouldn't sleep where Gore slept

Like Clinton I could not inhale
For I knew as I read my mail
That I would get to go to Yale
That day, in joy, I cried

Refrain:
Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(The Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Would you buy a halogen,
And would you take EE101
If your freshman counselor told you so?
And did you become a DS fiend
Your dorm room bathroom never cleaned? And
Can you put a condom on a wooden dildo?

Well I rushed a bunch of singing groups
And several frats, some improv troupes
Macarena with dropped trousers
We had WaWa instead of Krauszers

I was a lonely freshman pimpled schmuck
With a screw date who just wanted to.........drink
And I wished football didn't suck
The Game, it made me cry

Seniors singin'
Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(The Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Well for one year we'd been going strong
'Til sophomore slump hit us in the schlong
Our asses saved by Credit/D
Yeah, it's tough to be a holy Jew
In a dorm room where women see you nude
Had no choice but to sue Betty T

And while the Co-op was kinda lame
The Bookstore it was just more of the same
WYBC
Started playin' Master P

And while Philip Morris got our dough
We rocked to the girls of Indigo
The hockey team put on quite a show
and then John Denver died

And he was singin'
Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Rusted Root and Fall Fest farces
2-ply paper to wipe our arses
It's all thanks to Zach Kaufmaaaaaaaan
The Daily Caffe, it got screwed
But we got Origins scented lube
It's Broadway Redevelopment Plan

Our twenty-first was all we'd hoped
We went to Toad's and we got groped
Up on the booty cam
By a forty-something man
It was junior year and, my oh my,
Dean Brodhead taught us not to pry
Then in came the FBI
The day that Saybrook cried

Lasaga singin'
Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Well Branford now took Berkeley's place
A college lost in the Swing Space
And Saybrook will do it all again
C'mon Dave Gergen, now we're number four
But we'll drink it off down that Dixie shore
Down in Myrtle, where the flag wars never end

And while I watched the Roots on stage
Sweatshops filled my heart with rage
No freakin' free speech wall
Could make those bourgeois fall
By now, football had won renown
Except for one dumb loss to Brown
We went and stole the Ivy crown
The day poor Harvard cried

And they were singin'
Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Well I met a bunch of New York Jews
Some punks, some jocks, some real old blues
But Claire Danes frowned and turned away
I earned some credits, thirty-six
The flower guy helped me get my fix
As a Bonesman, I helped run the CIA

And on Wall Street, I-bankers lurk
To steal our souls, put us to work
We'll sell our youthful whimsy
We'll all work for McKinsey

But where'er upon life's sea we sail
Our watchwords they will never fail
For God, for country, and for Yale
All hail the great Eli!

Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai
(Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai)

Bye-bye, all you sons of Eli
It was heaven here with Levin
Now we all gotta fly
Stacks are all closed; women's table's run dry
And the Peace Corps' sendin' me to Dubai