As readers may know from my bio page, I went to Princeton University. By a most fortunate stroke of luck I ended up living at Princeton Inn College (aka "PIC", now Forbes College), possibly the most bohemian place you could be on the campus. A large former luxury hotel, with its own history and traditions and a population that more or less self-selected for the avante-garde, it was my home for four years.

In the years right before I got there, approximately 1975 to 1980, a number of residents (or "innmates," as they called us) — Michael Schiano, Mark Lerer, Paul Olowacz, and others — wrote a collection of song parodies mostly specific to the Princeton University of that time. (If the citations I've found on various webpages I've discovered are any indication, they are doing quite well for themselves now and probably don't want to be associated with the songbook now. <grin>)

(Update, 13 May 2002. I have just discovered that Paul Olowacz passed away in 2000. I never met the man, unfortunately, but the stories I've heard about him describe someone whose company I certainly would have enjoyed. Here's to you, Paul.)

(Further Update: In December 2003, Michael Schiano and Mark Lerer contacted me, putting the lie to my assertion above that they wouldn't want to be associated with the songbook any longer. They have, in fact, generously offered corrections, expansions and anecdotes, with which I will be supplementing this page.)

Some of the songs are mild social and/or political commentary. Others are affectionate lampoons of various figures found on or around the campus at that time. (Or vicious ones, depending on the specific figure.) One entire block of songs was an inspired parody version of the complete flip side of the Beatles album Abbey Road, all about the Princeton Inn College Experience. Many of us who sang the songs between 1980 and 1984 referred to it as "Alexander Road", the street on which the Inn was found.

Since 1982 or so I've jealously guarded a copy of this songbook, and even wrote a song for it myself. In Spring 2002 it came to my attention that it existed nowhere on the Net, despite how many computer-literate folk were among the group that kept it alive. I didn't (and still don't) know if copies even survive in the hands of any current Forbes residents. I decided it was time to rectify this situation. Thus, this webpage.

WARNING! Some of the songs herein — particularly the parody of Billy Joel's "She's Always A Woman" — are not politically correct. If you are likely to be offended by this kind of material, kindly go to a different page.


Some Explanatory Glosses...

For those who didn't reside in Princeton Inn College between 1975 and 1984, a few footnotes are in order.

Firstly, according to the annotation on my copy of the Songbook, the following lyrics were written and copyright by 1975-1980 by Michael Schiano, Mark Lerer, Paul Olowacz, and others. (Except for the one song that I wrote, which is copyright 1985 by me, Robert M. Schroeck.)


A "gut" is a ridiculously easy class.

"Orgo" is Organic Chemistry, the course reputed to be Princeton's most difficult.

Every senior must write a thesis in order to graduate, and it's usually a big sucker (mine was 250 pages).

The USG is the Undergraduate Student Government, which published a review of courses and their difficulty every semester.


"Bilbo" refers to William "Bill" Bowen, then-President of the University.

J. Anderson Brown was the Dean of Student Affairs.

R. Manning Brown '36 (no relation, as far as I know, to J. Anderson) was the legendarily-reactionary head of the board of trustees for the University.

Anthony Cummings lived at PIC and worked as an Assistant Master of the college for many years while he earned his Ph.D. at the Grad College. He later became Dean of Admissions for several years, after which he was Dean of Tulane University, as well as professor of music and co-director of Italian Studies there. As of April 2006, he was named Provost and Dean of the Faculty at Lafayette University.

Lou Ann Garvey was the Master of the college during the late 1970s and early 1980s. Friendly, motherly, and possessed of an inimitable personal style and fashion sense, she was probably the only thing that stood between the Inn and the rampant bureaucracy up-campus. When she left the Inn, a lot of the light and life went out of the place.

Joan Girgus was another dean at the time, and is still there as Professor of Psychology as well as Special Assistant to the Dean of the Faculty.

"Malichi", I am told, was the nickname of science fiction/fantasy author Lawrence Watt-Evans both times he went to Princeton and lived at PIC (he flunked out both times, too).

Eric Juan, unfortunately, I know nothing about.

Dave Schachter is a friend I haven't seen in years, from the class of '82. EECS major and notably (though very mildly) eccentric, he was also the first openly gay person I ever knew. From him I received both this songbook (he knew the creators, as evidenced by the "Schachterian" modification to a song below) and occasional romantic advice as I ineptly pursued a young lady of our mutual acquaintance. Hey, Dave, are you still singing John Adams?


The names at the end of "This Paper's Flunking" are all buildings on the campus; the first line is of dorms, the second eating clubs (see below), and the third lecture/class halls.

Fine Hall, aka Fine Tower, is the home of the math department and the tallest building on the (undergraduate) campus.

Firestone is the main library on campus; its basements are lettered, with "C" floor being the deepest underground. The basements are also the sites of seniors' study carrels, where many hide away to write their senior theses.

Forbes College. In the fall of 1984, PIC was renamed; because he gave an obscene amount of money, the late Malcolm Forbes convinced the administration to rename PIC after his son, Malcolm S. "Steve" Forbes '70. (Yes, the geek who ran for president 16 years later in 2000.) Using that cash, they hired alumnus and well-known "innovative" architect Robert Venturi to redesign the Inn's public areas, effectively obliterating the comfortable, homey environment that we had come to love in order to replace it with a very "artsy/modern" but less-than-functional showpiece. (Venturi claimed he was "restoring" the Inn, but if it looked like that when it was built in 1924, I'd be very surprised.) I, along with a number of other former and current PIC residents, attended the rededication wearing black armbands.

Nassau Hall is the oldest building on campus, a former capitol of the USA, and the administrative seat of the University.

New South is an administrative office building in the southwest corner of the campus, about 200 yards away from the Inn. It is distinguished (for the purposes of the songbook) by a spacious dining facility on its top floor, which was regularly used by the campus gay and lesbian organization for its parties and dances.

Prospect Street is the site of the Eating clubs, Princeton's substitute for fraternities until very recently. They originated in the late Nineteenth Century as bands of upperclassmen who went out together to local restaurants. Eventually, these bands grew more organized (and financially solvent) and built their own private restaurants/social clubs. At the time that these songs were written, about 2/3 of the clubs accepted members on a random draw method. The remainder were "selective", meaning they chose their new members in a process (similar to a frat rush) called "bicker". The remaining selective clubs tended to be bastions of particularly snobbish types, by their structure.

You can find a brief history of Princeton's eating clubs here.

Okay, now that that's taken care of...

The Princeton Inn Songbook

These lyrics were (mostly) written at the Princeton Inn College between 1975 and 1980, by Michael Schiano, Mark Lerer, Paul Olowacz, and others of the PIC Old Guard.

Transcribed by those who remember.

— Original inscription on the songbook



(to "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles)

This paper's done (doodle doo doo)
This paper's done and I say, "It's all right."*
Smith Corona, it's been a long dull dreary paper.
Smith Corona, it seems like years since we began.
This paper's done. This paper's done.
And I say, "It's all right."

Smith Corona, I've been awake for thirty hours.
Smith Corona, it seems like days since Chapter One.
This paper's done. This paper's done.
And I say, "It's all right."

Done, done, done, finally done.
Done, done, done, finally done.
Done, done, done, finally done.
Done, done, done, finally done.

My preceptor is just a petty young grad student.
My preceptor will probably give me a "C".
This paper's done. This paper's done.
And I say, "It's all right."

*"It's all right" should be half-spoken in an "I guess it's okay" sort of tone.


(to "Because..." by the Beatles)

Because the food is vile, it brings me down.
Because the food is vile uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh........

Because the pie is blue, it makes me cry.
Because the pie is blue uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh........

Ask the whole kitchen crew.
Food is older than you.

The cost is so damn high, it blows my mind.
The cost is so damn high uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh........


(to "You Never Give Me Your Money" by the Beatles)

My parents give you their money.
Why can't you give me an education?
Or in the middle of my degradation, I'll break down.

My friends are making me wonder
Is Princeton worth all this aggravation?
And in the middle of my desperation, I break down.

Out of college, money spent.
See no future, pay no rent.
All the money's gone; nowhere to go.

Every grad school got the sack.
Four years here I broke my back.
All the money's gone; nothing to show.

But once I've graduated,
Where will I go?
But once I've graduated,
Where will I go? Where will I go? Aaaaaahhhhh.....

One sweet dean
Pick up a pen and wipe my record clean.
All I need's a three point two
Then they'll forget the year I threw away.
One sweet dean came through today
Came through today...

AB or a BSE,
Either one sounds fine to me.
AB or a BSE,
Either one sounds fine to me.
<repeat and fade out>


(to "Here Comes The Sun King" by the Beatles)

This paper's flun-king.
This paper's flun-king.
My preceptor's laughing.
My professor's happy.
This paper's flun-king.

Cuyler, Walker, Holder, Patton, Jolene, Witherspoon and Princeton Inn
Charter, Cottage, Cloister, Ivy, Terrace, Tiger, Tower, Cap and Gown
Woolworth, Jadwin, Palmer, Guyot, Eno, Prospect Garden and McCosh.


(to "Mean Mister Mustard" by the Beatles)

R. Manning Brown has lotsa bucks.
He really sucks like an old trustee.
Juggles University dollars
Even though the People's Front hollers.
Money isn't just for the scholars.
Such a mean old man.

His buddy Bilbo will go far,
Owns NCR, he's an ass-kisser.
Hides away in old Nassau Hall;
Manages to waver and stall.
Doesn't really do much at all.
Such a clever young man.


(to "Polythene Pam" by the Beatles)

Look at J. Anderson Brown.
He's so devoted but he acts like a clown.
He's the kind of a fool
They put in charge of a school
And yes, he's running it right into the ground.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Get dose of him at Student Affairs.
He's in the office at the top of the stairs.
He'll keep you waiting for years
And then he'll drive you to tears
'Cause he's as boring as the clothing he wears.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.


(to "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window" by the Beatles)

Don't let me flunk out now.

She came in through a fancy prep school,
Encouraged by her SATs.
Applied to Princeton Early Action
And for sure, she got in with ease.

Didn't anybody tell her? Didn't anybody see?
She could have some serious problems
At this university.

They said she'd always been precocious.
She never got below an A.
But then the coursework got ferocious
And her brain finally snapped one day.

And so I quit the math department
And took myself a bunch of guts
And though it might not look impressive,
God, it beats being driven nuts.

Didn't anybody tell her? Didn't anybody see?
You could have some serious problems
At this university.
Oh yeah...


(to "Golden Slumbers" by the Beatles)

Once there was a way to do my homework.
Once there was a way to be alone.
I've got a roommate; wish he'd die
So I could get some peace and quiet.

Housing office, hear my plea;
Someone else should live with me.
I've got a roommate; wish he'd die
So I could get some peace and quiet.

Boy, you're gonna have a long wait,
Have a long wait 'til springtime.
Boy, you're gonna have a long wait,
Have a long wait 'til springtime.


(to "The End" by the Beatles)

I never go to a party.
I never get any recreation
And in the middle of my isolation, I break down.

Boy, you're gonna have a long wait,
Have a long wait 'til springtime.
Boy, you're gonna have a long wait,
Have a long wait 'til springtime.

Oh, no... oh, my...
Don't you see I'm kissing my youth good-bye?

Hate this. Hate this. Hate this....

And in the end, the grade you make
Is equal to the shit you take.


(to "Her Majesty" by the Beatles)

Dean Girgus is a pretty nice girl
But she has an awful lot to say.
Dean Girgus is a pretty nice girl
But she changes from day to day.
I want to tell her
That I want a year off
But I gotta get her belly full of wine.
Dean Girgus is a pretty nice girl;
Someday I'll push her off of Fine.
Oh, yeah, someday I'll push her off of Fine.

(to "YMCA", by the Village People)

FRESHMAN, you have entered the race.
I said FRESHMAN, wipe that smile off your face.
I said FRESHMAN, 'cos you're in a new place,
There's no need - to - think- it's - ea - sy,
FRESHMAN, if you think it's a treat,
I must WARN YOU, there's a man you will meet.
He's a LOSER, and I'm sure he will find
Many ways - to - mess - up - your - mind.

You're gonna learn to ask, "Where's my R.A.?
I've got a razor blade. Where's my R.A.?"
If the school gets you down or your roommate is gay,
He will tell you that it's okay. "Where's my R.A.?
I need some help in French. Where's my R.A.?"
When your life is a mess, he will tell you it's cool,
He is what you might call a tool.

FRESHMAN, just to add to your fears,
I say, FRESHMAN, you must choose your careers.
For re-MEMBER, you have only four years
And it's hard - e - nough - with - out - some
DIPSHIT who is pleased with himself
And thinks FRESHMEN are like toys on the shelf
He can PLAY WITH while he gives them advice
'Cos he's got - it - set - up - so - nice.

You're gonna shout it out. "Where's my R.A.?
I've got some sleeping pills. Where's my R.A.?"
He'll make out with your girl, he will steal her away,
And he'll tell you that it's okay. "Where's my R.A.?
I flunked my physics quiz. Where's my R.A.?"
If you're sinking in work, he will leave you to drown,
'Cos he's working for Andy Brown.

FRESHMAN, I was once in your plight.
I said, I KNOW that this jerk isn't right.
I think that I'LL GO talk to Dean Andy Brown;
I'm sure that - man - can't - be - no - clown.
THAT'S WHEN Andy answered my call.
He said, "FRESHMAN, take a walk up your hall.
There's a MAN THERE and he's called your R.A.
He can show - you - what's - the - right - way. Hahahaha..."

"I gotta know one thing. Where's my R.A.?
I'm soaked in kerosene. Where's my R.A.?
I gotta take-home exam that was due yesterday
And he tells me that it's okay. Where's my R.A.?
I'm gonna hang myself. Where's my R.A.?"
When you're on your last leg, when your face is in tears,
That's when he disappears.

FRESHMAN, there's an old friend of mine
Who said, "PRINCETON'S giving me a hard time.
I think I'LL GO take a walk up to Fine
Maybe that's - the - way - I'll - end - it."

THAT's WHEN I went up to my man
And said, "FRESHMAN, we all do what we can."
I said, "YOU SHOULD go to see your R.A.
I'm sure he - can - help - you - today."
He left a note that said, "Where's my R.A.?
You'll find me under Fine. Where's my R.A.?"
When it really looks bad, he'll invite you to tea.
He will show you how nice a preppie senior can be.
"Where's my R.A.? I'm drinking turpentine. Where's my R.A.?"
He took this job 'cos he gets a free room.
Look out, look out, he will lead you to gloom.
"Where's my R.A.? I'm ten stories high. Where's my R.A.?"
<repeat and fade>
Copyright (C) 1979 Paul Olowacz and Michael Schiano

(to "Hello, Dolly!")

Lou Ann Garvey,
Hey, Lou Ann Garvey,
We all love the way you run the PIC.
You wear high boots, Garvey,
Leather suits, Garvey,
You're no phony and your pony tail hangs per-fectly.
So be aware, Garvey,
That we care, Garvey.
You're essential to our residential life. Oh,
You're number one, Garvey.
After all is said and done, Garvey,
You're also Sarah's mom and Gerald's wife.

(to "Chattanooga Choo-Choo")

Pardon me sir, you must be Doctor Levandowski,
I've got a case; could you please lower your face.
I'll drop my pants, so glance behind me Levandowski;
Please diagnose; my situation is gross.
I'll put my elbows on the table or my knee in the air
Make your testing thorough, I've got fluids to spare.
Tell me what my plight is,
Could it be colitis,
Polyps, fissures, hemmorrhoids or illiitis.
Send me to a hospital and give me a bed,
Also send a psychiatrist to check out my head.
Don't forget my colon, gotta keep it rollin',
Woo-woo, Levandowski, 'fore I'm dead.

There's gonna be a certain bottle at the drugstore.
Take just a bit, and boy are you gonna... smile.
You'll be just fine,
And just in time to end your freshman year —
Good riddance, Mr. Lerer,
I've had your crap up to here!

(to "The Patty Duke Show" theme song)

Meet Mather who teaches 205.
It's hard to tell if he's alive.
He never has a lecture planned
Which makes it hard to understand
Why his checks arrive.
Well, he's tenured,
Unshakeably tenured all the way.
One useless old professor guaranteed lifetime pay.

While students would love to see him bounced,
The dean's decision's been announced:
While Mather is a crushing bore,
You must admit he's published more;
That's what really counts.
So he's tenured,
God damn it, he's tenured, and you'll see
His teaching methods ain't so good,
He stands there like a lump of wood
With a Ph.D.
And tenure, indefinitely!

(to "Octopus's Garden, by the Beatles)

I'd like to eat on Prospect Street
In a typical selective eating club.
I'd strike a pose, look down my nose,
In a typical selective eating club.

I'd ask my friends to come and see
How we all dine — selectively.
I'd like to eat on Prospect Street
In a typical selective eating club.

I would be chic, within my clique
In my silk Lacoste pajamas and my robe.
Resting my buns with rich men's sons
Chatting of our trips around the globe.

I would party, eat and drink —
I'd never have to work or think.
I'd like to eat on Prospect Street
In a typical selective eating club.

I'm the type to smoke a pipe
Reclining, talking bluechips over tea.
And after squash, we all could nosh
On liquid-centered chocolates from Paree.

We could play backgammon, you and me;
Think of all the people we could snub!
I'd like to eat on Prospect Street
In a typical selective eating club...
        Ivy, Tower
In a typical selective eating club...
        Cottage, Tiger
In a typical selective eating club...
        Like, Cap and Gown.

(to "Lady Madonna")

Anthony Cummings lives at PIC.
Wonder when he's gonna get his Ph.D.
School gives him money, we all pay his rent.
Don't you think it's time he got a job and went?

Years ago, arrived with just a BA.
Sad to notice just how far he's come.
Made a name as Lewie Lockwood's T.A.
Now he's our bum...

Anthony Cummings does the preppie scene.
Why is he still acting like he's seventeen?


Anthony Cummings sitting in his room.
Simply contemplating academic gloom.
Scholarship and research still confuse him
Manuscripts to study by the ton.
Undergrads surround him and abuse him
Gee, ain't it fun?

Randall and Lansky, Westergaard and Knapp,
Please get on his ass so we can end this crap!

(to "This Could Be The Start Of Something Big" by Steve Allen)

You're studying in your room, or maybe on C Floor.
The day that the paper's due has finally come.
You suddenly see a blonde
Emerge from the stacks beyond,
And this could be the start of something dumb.

You're making a painting at 185 Nassau;
You've just stretched the canvas till it's tight as a drum.
And there in room one-thirteen
Is the most gorgeous girl you've ever seen,
And this could be the start of something dumb.

It can be thrilling if she's willing, but it's rare, my friend.
You must remember that there's more of us than them.
If you're invited get excited but take care, my friend,
She's probably too busy doing Chem.

You're down in the laundry room, or shopping at Wawa;
You're paying your U-Store bill, phenomenal sum;
And there at the record sale
You notice this piece of tail*
And this could be the start of something
This could be the heart of something
This could be the start of something dumb!

(*Alternate words: You notice this pony-tail)

(to "She's Leaving Home" by the Beatles)

Wednesday morning at nine o'clock as the day begins,
Quietly leaving her room a mess,
Seeing the man whom she hopes will say less,
She goes downstairs to her carrel somewhere in Firestone;
Eagerly throwing her notes away.
She's leaving Princeton today.

She (What did she do that was wrong?)
Is flunking (She knew damn well what went wrong.)
Out (She fooled around while her courses flew BY.)
She's flunking out after running about for so many years.
Bye bye.

Roommates scream as the Housing Office gets ornery,
Wanting to fill up the vacancy —
There's only two in a room meant for three.
They crack down and send them a transfer student from Omaha.
"How can they treat us so thoughtlessly?
How can they do this to me?"

She (She never thought much of work,)
Is flunking (Spent all her nights with some jerk.)
Out (She didn't know that her boyfriend was BI.)
She's flunking out after running about for so many years.
Bye bye.

Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away,
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
With her old man in the banking trade.

She (Her father makes ninety grand.)
Is making (Asked her if she'd lend a hand.)
Money (There isn't much that her old man can't buy)
She's leaving school after being a fool for so many years.

She's flunking out.
Bye bye.

(to "Smut" by Tom Lehrer)

Guts, give me a gut and nothing but.
A lecture anyone can cut,
And still can pass like knives through but-ter.

I'd never quibble if it were drivel.
Sitting in a lecture, all I do is scribble.
As the Dean remarked the day before he finally retired,
"To be Gut it must be utterly without a shred of homework required."

For — the extra sleep that I adore.
Professors' voices make me snore.
They bore me more
When they're hardcore.

Bring on the Psychology, Stats 208, Rocks for Jocks, Nuts and Sluts,
Music 103! More, more, more, I still have homework!

Stories of classes taken by asses
With textbooks so complex and thick
Make me sick.
Courses with midterms are courses for bookworms
The guy who takes P-Chem's a jerk.
(Let's face it: I hate work.)

Oh, work can be neglected, but with guts you can be bolder,
For grades, I'm sad to say, aren't in the eye of the beholder.
When correctly done, Princeton can be fun!
I can tell you things about Malichi,
Or Eric Juan (now there's a smart guy).

Stay clear of any play by Bill Shakespeare.
You'll cry like Hamlet or King Lear
If you go near Engineer-ing.

Who needs a killer with Orgo's notoriety?
I've got a filler — Computers and Society!
But now they're trying to take it all away
Unless tremendous forces rise and with one voice demand
CURRICULUM REFORM, in other words

GUTS! And all my textbooks will stay shut.
And Princeton wouldn't be a rut.
I don't know what can beat a Gut.
Hip hip hooray! (Let's hear it for the USG!)
Let's keep our Guts here to stay!

(to "Werner Von Braun" by Tom Lehrer)

Gather round while I tell you of R. Manning Brown,
A man whose morality excuses brutality.
Call him a racist, he won't even frown.
"Racist, schmacist," says R. Manning Brown.

The Front has harsh words for this man of reknown.
They cite his proclivity for insensitivity
To the down-trodden masses of Soweto Town
Who don't owe a damn thing to R. Manning Brown.

You too can become a head trustee
If your own social conscience gets rusty.
"Among rich old alumni I have long worn the crown —
So the rest of you buzz off," says R. Manning Brown.

(to "(She's Got A) Ticket To Ride" by the Beatles)

I think I'm gonna be sad, I think it's today, yeah,
The date that's driving me mad is not far away.

I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
And I don't care.

The thought of writing it all is bringing me down,
And I will never be free while it is around.

I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
And I don't care.

I don't know why it's taking so long;
Shoulda been smart, shoulda started last June.
Before the morning light hits the sky,
I wanna finish this chapter real soon.

I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
I've got a thesis to write.
And I don't care.
I really don't care.
I really don't care.
I really don't care.

(To "She's Always A Woman" by Billy Joel)

She can't read or write.
She can't add or subtract.
She has no control of her digestive tract.
She lifts up her leg when she passes a tree
And smells like a horse,
But she's always a woman to me.

She snorts like a walrus,
She eats like a beaver.
She has no left lung;
You can take her or leave her.
She stains the Formica by spilling her tea
And she shits in her pants
But she's always a woman to me.

Oh, she smokes rancid cigars.
She has moles on her ass
And the tip of her nose.
And oh, she has terrible scars,
Keeps her teeth in a glass,
And she's missing three toes.

She has poor circulation,
Her skin's sort of blue.
Has a twenty-inch waist
But stands seven foot two.
She gets sexual pleasure from children of three
And she lives at the Inn
But she's always a woman to me.


She shaved off her eyebrows,
She foams at the mouth.
She looks like the north end
Of a sow going south.
She has cerebral palsy.
She's been on TV.
And the most she can say
is gthdbthbdpbday
But she's always a woman to me.

*Alternate lines for last verse:
In place of "She looks like...", put "She goes to the parties they hold at New South."
And in place of "gthbdth...", put "I'm glad I'm not gay."
— the Schacterian modification by Schiano

(To "Penny Lane" by the Beatles)

In Princeton Inn there is a pre-med with a butcher knife
Who likes to practice on the sophomore down the hall,
And it's a wonder that they aren't all
Driven up a wall.

In Princeton Inn there is a freshman in his underwear
Who tries to study while his girlfriend sleeps around,
And though the girlfriend never makes a sound,
Boy she gets around — off the ground.

Princeton Inn is right on Alexander Road.
There a lot of temperments explode
On contact. Meanwhile back

At Princeton Inn there is a Master with a pony-tail,
And in her office is a junior with a plight.
He and his roommate had an awful fight.
Could he stay the night?

Princeton Inn is right on Alexander Road.
There a lot of temperments explode
On contact. Meanwhile back

In the Addition is an asshole with a stereo
Who has a party in his room most every day,
And all his friends, they love to come and stay
Till they're blown away — every day.

Princeton Inn is right on Alexander Road.
Watch your GPA erode
By April. Meanwhile back

In Princeton Inn the pre-med wastes another guinea pig;
We see the freshman sitting waiting for his mail;
And the asshole's slowly turning pale,
Lying on the ground — till he's found.

Princeton Inn is right on Alexander Road.
There a lot of temperments explode
On contact. Meanwhile back
Princeton Inn is right on Alexander Road.
Princeton Inn!

About the next song, Michael Schiano wrote me in December 2003:

As a group, we sang a mix of the "songbook" and other favorites a few times a week - till the wee hours of the morning - PIC curfew was officially 2am - (curfew as in public noise) ... It was rather fun when Mark and I would have a new song off the press. Mark and I would generally write together, and Paul would tweak something at a performance. ... Mark actually wrote a song about me for - I think my birthday, during that spring. That was really touching. He had me sit at the piano, with Lou Ann there, and he told me to play "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." So here I was getting a taste of my own medicine.

(to "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean")

While Horowitz possesses sty-le
and Rubenstein pleases the crowd
Van Cliburn is forceful or mi-ld
Schi-a-no just plays awful loud.

Please, Mike. Please, Mike.
Play something softer tonight. Tonight.
Please, Mike. Please, Mike.
Play something softer tonight. Tonight.

Casals showed his cello devotion
Franz Brueggen is gentle of breath
and Menuhin plays with emotion
Schiano bangs Steinways to death

Please, Mike. Please, Mike.
Play something softer tonight. Tonight.
Please, Mike. Please, Mike.
Play something softer tonight. Tonight.

So who knows each key and each rhythm
And who can play any old song
And who has the Inn singing with him
and who keeps us up all night long.

Please, Mike. Please, Mike.
Play something shorter tonight.

(to "Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite", by the Beatles)

For the benefit of Mr. Forbes
There will be a show indoors at PIC.
The faculty will all be there,
Hoping they will get their share — wait and see.
To alums and students press and TV
The architect pronounces it a thrill
And you know Mr. F will pay for it all.

The celebrated architect
Has had the place completely wrecked and sterilized.
He's redesigned the dining room
And filled the place with noisy gloom you realize...
Mr. Forbes assures the student body
That this construction will be second to none.
And of course Bilbo and friends thank him so much!

The dedication starts at three
When Bowen now attempts to be obsequious.
And Mr. F will say the word
That names the Inn after that turd, Malcolm S.
Having been some months in preparation
A sadd'ning time is guaranteed for all.
For tonight Mr. Forbes is footing the bill.

(Lyrics Copyright © 1985, Robert M. Schroeck)

This page was created on April 19, 2002.
Last modified July 31, 2019.