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The name of Washburn shall never fall,
Midst the great and small, she's the best of all;
For her fair name,
Then, we'll win the game,
And add another victor's crown
So then, we'll smash, crash against the line
"As in Auld Lang Syne,"
Crush them down,
So Cheer now, yes, cheer, cheer, cheer
Just for Washburn and her team!
A song of our prairies wide,
A song of breezes strong,
A song of our pride, the true and the tried,
Of our college dear, a song.
Washburn, Washburn, we love thee well,
Ours is the joy thy praise to swell;
With voices free we'll sing of thee
And ever thy praise we'll tell.
'Tis not for thy hoarded light,
'Tis not for thy stately halls, But 'tis for the right,
the sword of might,
Thy sons obey thy calls.