Digital Tradition Mirror

Climber's Gory

(This score available as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, PNG, or PMW, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available

Climber's Gory

Will it go around the chockstone?" cried the belayer looking up,
Our hero feebly answered "Yes", and slowly inched on up,
He was pounding in a piton when his foothold crumpled out
   And he ain't gonna climb no more

CHO:  Gory, gory, What a helluva way to die (3x)
      And he ain't gonna climb no more

He tumbled down the chimney and he quickly gathered speed
He shot past his belayer who forgot the climber's creed,
An anchor to a piton would have satisfied his need.
   And they ain't gonna climb no more

The belayer felt the rope grow taut he tried to let it run.
It jerked him from position and he knew his time had come.
He left the ledge he sat on and it shot up toward the sun.
  And he ain't gonna climb no more
They shot on down the chimney and across the southern col
They slithered across the friction pitch and sped on down the wall
It was such grand exposure that they had a lovely fall
  And they ain't gonna climb no more,

The days they lived and laughed and loved went rushing thru their minds.
They thought about the girls back home, the ones they'd left behind.
They thought about the ranger and they wondered what he'd find.
  And they ain't gonna climb no more.

The medic in the valley watched them thru A telescope.
When he saw that they were falling his eyes lit up with hope
For it had been a week or more since the parting of the rope
  And they ain't gonna climb no more

One had a sling-rope wrapped around his neck, a piton thru his spleen,
The ice-ax in his rucksack fell and split the other's bean
Two bloody stripes marked their descent into the valley green,
  And they ain't gonna climb no more
They hit the ground, the sound was "SPLAT" the blood, it squirted high,
Their comrades all were heard to exclaim, "What a colorful way to die"
They lay there on the talus in the welter of their gore,
  And they ain't gonna climb no more

There were brains upon the rucksacks, there was blood upon the ropes,
Intestines lay a'strewn out across the grassy slopes,
They scraped them up In baskets after salvaging the ropes
  And they ain't gonna climb no more,

AB

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!