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Beta Theta Pi
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In the Old Porch Chairs
When the shades of evening gather down around you,
String your old guitar and strum a tune or two;
There's your Alma Mater - 'finest of the fine.'
There's fair Beta - Beta, yours and mine.
When the pipes are glowing in the old porch chairs,
Plink your mandolin and plunk your chapter airs;
There's the 'absent member' - she for whom you pine;
There's fair Beta - Beta, yours and mine.
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