Thomas Starr King Middle School - Echoes Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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EVERY GIRL SONG Every Gir1's the club we love the best, She's the spirit of T. S. K. To her sheltering wing, All new members we bring, And she makes them feel at home right away. It matters not if you are dull or handy, She will make you feel you are fine and dandy. So it's Every Girl, yes it's Every Girl, She's the the spirit of T. S. K. BOYS' SONG Starr League, l1ere's to Starr League Here's to the boys of T. S. K. Steady, ever ready to do the tasks that come ou We strive for honor and truth and right In our work and in our play, So it's Starr League, here's to Starr League Here's to the boys of T. S. K. SCHOOL SONG There's a school in the shadow of the hills, Whose name we love to tell, We'll gladly pledge allegiance to the school We Her kindly hand directs our path, Her arm is round us all And if she ever needs our help Weill rally quickly to her call. CHORUS Oh, Thomas Starr King we ar Loyal as the stars above 3 Striving to do what is good and true All for the school we love. We'1l sing thy praises forever, Faithful to thee We'll prove And Where'er we go We shall always know There's no school like Thomas Starr King e loyal, MY SCHOOL Thy steps are our foundation, Thy triumph is our pride, Thy beauty is our vanity, For thee our best we've tried. Be Two Hundred Forty-four r way love so well tty Warrerz.

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FLAG OF OUR NATIVE LAND Flag of our native land Flag of the brave, Hag of the free To thee all honor bring. Honor and love from all is due Flag of our native land. Over the land, over the sea Flourish thy colors, red, White and blue For thee our fathers fought For thee our fathers died, Flag of our native land. Proudly it floats on high Blue as the summer sky, Red as the rose is red, White as the clouds overhead, Flag of our native land. Thy brilliant colors, red, white and blue ' Proud we are of each bar. Proudly we count each gleaming star. Cheer after cheer is echoed now, Flag of our native land. Edna Booth, A8 SONG OF THE BUGLE I am the Bugle. I make music And sound sweet calls out in the air, And when Old Glory slowly rises, I sound the notes to the colors That all may Stand at Attention! Wlien our soldiers fought Over There, I played to inspire them on to victory, And when they lay dying in Flanders Field, I sounded Taps, ever so softly. Lawrence Price, A8 Two Hundred Forty-five