We never sing this one, but I think it's a riot.

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(To the tune of "My Bonnie Lies over the Ocean". Usually performed with hashers taking turns solo on the verses, then the pack joining together on the chorus. The lower voices should sing the echos in parentheses.)

My father makes book on the corner,
My mother makes illicit gin.
My sister sells kisses to sailors,
My God how the money rolls in.
Chorus
Rolls in (rolls in), rolls in (rolls in),
My God how the money rolls in (rolls in).
Rolls in, rolls in, rolls innn-in,
My God how the money rolls in.
My mother's a bawdy house keeper,
Every night when the evening grows dim.
She hangs out a little red lantern,
My God how the money rolls in.
My sister's a barmaid in Sydney,
For a shilling she'll strip to the skin.
She's stripping from morning to midnight,
My God how the money rolls in.
My brother-in-law is a Hasher,
Who wanders around the hash bar,
He's picking up business for sister,
My God how the money rolls in.
My brother's a poor missionary,
He saves fallen women from sin.
He'll save you a blonde for a guinea,
My God how the money rolls in.
My sister-in-law is a Hasher,
She lays trails year out and year in,
But when she lays hounds in the bushes,
My God how the money rolls in.
My Grandad sells cheap prophylactics,
And punctures the teats with a pin.
For Grandma gets rich from abortions,
My God how the money rolls in.
Uncle Joe is a registered plumber,
His business in holes and in tin.
He'll plug up your hole for a tanner,
My God how the money rolls in.
Aunt Mary makes deals with the milkman,
The mailman and newsboy named Ben.
For a piece of pie and Aunt Mary,
My God how the money rolls in.
Uncle Tommy was once in a prison,
Where he was a joy to the men,
Now he bends over for business,
My God how the money rolls in.
Aunt Joan keeps a girl's seminary,
Teaching young girls to begin.
She doesn't say where they will finish,
My God how the money rolls in.
Uncle Harry is carving out candles,
From wax that is surgically soft.
He hopes it'll fill up the gap,
If ever his business is off.
My cousin's a Harley Street surgeon,
With instruments long, sharp and thin.
He only does one operation,
My God how the money rolls in.
I've lost all me cash on the horses,
I'm sick from the illicit gin.
I'm falling in love with me sister,
My God what a mess I am in.
I've lost my way off of the hash trail,
I can't find the beer at the end.
I've got to spot flour by nightfall,
My God will you please let this end!