Vice-chancellors are baddies, who simply loathe the young,
They have the most colossal cheek in which to keep their tongue,
They wield their autocratic power with tyranny sadistic,
And when they show us kindness they are too paternalistic.

Proctors are outrageous men, as full of gall as guile,
Who spy upon our privacy and put it in a file,
To try to reason with such scum inevitably fails —
They sneer and reassure us that they only file their nails.

Deans and Moral Tutors are a soggy lot of crooks,
And our stupid fellow-students  keep their noses in their books.
Alas! We look in vain for hope, below, around, above;
We'd love to hold a love-in, but there's nobody to love.