Unknown - Director Of Admissions Lyrics

DIRECTOR OF ADMISSIONS

Director of Admissions, my ma's an engineer,
My sister's a computer, my brother is a gear,
My father is a robot, my grandpa's also queer,
Leaping logic, naturally I'm here!

Dear Roland B. Greeley, according to you,
I oughta study history at Smith or BU
I ain't husband hunting, they're ill-gotten gains.
Deep down inside me I got brains, We got brains!

We got brains, we got brains, we got hairy brains,
Like inside the least of us is brains.

Dear fascinating Techman, you gotta understand,
That when I'm doing physics, I cannot hold your hand.
It's not I'm anti-social, it's flunking out I fear.
Creeping Cambridge, that's how I'm still here!
Dear drab lifeless coeds, it's really a shame
You're lacking social polish and your training's to blame
You look more like oysters than ravishing pearls
But deep down inside you, you are girls, We are girls!

We are girls, we are girls, we are female girls!
Like we're biologically girls!

Dear philanthropic Fassett, I'm socially deprived,
I'm lacking proper culture, I never have arrived.
You think your dormitory is gonna cure these ills,
OK Freddie, you can pay the bills!

Yea, verily coeds, it's for your own good,
This way we can be certain that you live as you should.
Financial arrangements are easily made.
All 5.0 students will get aid. We got aid!

We got aid, we got aid, we got student aid!
Yea, the best of us got student aid!
The trouble is we're ladies, the trouble is we're slobs,
The trouble is we're brainy, the trouble is we're snobs,
The trouble is we're learning, the trouble is we've learned
5.0's aren't so casually earned!

Dear Kenneth R. Wadleigh, we're down on our knees.
We have all been told about the birds and the bees.
Dear Kenneth R. Wadleigh, what are we to do?
Gee, Kenneth R. Wadleigh . . . . . . . .

Tune: Officer Krupke