This traditional 10th Mountain Division Marching (or drinking) song is archived here for reference.
(To the tune of Bell Bottom Trousers, or a lively bluegrass arrangement.)
I was a barmaid in a mountain inn;
There I learned the wages and miseries of sin;
Along came a skier fresh from off the slopes;
He’s the one that ruined me and shattered all my hopes.
Ninety pounds of rucksack
A pound of grub or two
He’ll schuss the mountain,
Like his daddy used to do.
He asked me for a candle to light his way to bed;
He asked me for a kerchief to tie around his head;
And I a foolish maiden, thinking it no harm;
Jumped into the skier’s bed to keep the skier warm..
Early in the morning before the break of day,
He handed me a five note and these words did say,
“Take this my darling for the damage I have done.
You may have a daughter, you may have a son.
Now if you have a daughter, bounce her on your knee;
But if you have a son, send the young man out to ski.”
The moral of this story, as you can plainly see,
Is never trust a skier an inch above your knee.
For I trusted one and now look at me;
I’ve got a b*stard in the Mountain Infantry.
[suggested modern verse]
The soldiers aren’t among us now, they’re mostly passed and gone,
So we try to honor them, with this silly song.
But all of us ski powder, an inch above the knee;
And if that makes us b*stards we’re in damn good company.
Singing… [call & response to Chorus]