This song was written to the tune of "Drill, Ye
Terriers, Drill" by Andrea of Clairmont. Oddly
enough, the twice weekly (Tuesday and Thursday)
practice sessions at the Rockridge BART station
in Oakland are still going on some 20 to 25 years
after the song was written.

Twice a week at seven at night
There are sixty commuters who balk at the sight
Of six grim fighters, slightly insane,
Who beat one another till they all fall slain
Crying. . . . .

Chorus

Fight you motleys, fight.
Fight you motleys, fight!
For it's bash and hack for the pleasure of attack
There below the BART track and
Fight you motleys, fight.
And beat. And kill.

Henderson is our senior
He carries a club and a shield like a door
He'll raise his sword and bring it down
Then they'll carry you off till you come around
Singing. . . . .

Chorus

Then there's always our man Bill
He stands eight feet, he's impossible to kill
If you fight with him it might take awhile
But he'll get you in the end, so you wait with a smile
Singing. . . . .

Chorus

Larry's there, he's wise and brave
And he'll tell you he's got one foot in the grave
But he fights like the devil and everyone knows
That he'll send us ahead before he goes
So. . . . .

Chorus

Then there's Mary, her helm is green,
She's tough as leather and plain dirt mean
She'll rain down blows, she'll hit you hard
Then she'll sit back and wait till you lower your guard
So. . . . .

Chorus

David's there, he's quick as hell
And besides he knows the sport damn well
If you see his sword before it hits your head
You've got that much longer to know you're dead
But. . . . .

Chorus

Beware of Carol, fighting's in her blood,
She loves the way bodies fall with a thud.
If you meet her even out of her plate,
She'll deal you blows you'll never forget!
So. . . . .

Chorus

Along with these there's sometimes more,
Like Pavel and Perrin and Old Strange Warren.
If you look at them, you'll have to agree
They're about as motley as they can be!

Singing. . . . .