SCHOOL SONG
From the hills of Tumbarumba, from the farms of Old Junee,
From the tree-lined streets of Wagga, we climb the hill to thee.
In classroom and on sports field, we strive with all our will
To be worthy sons and daughters of the high school on the hill.
Here youth, with kindly patience, is shown the path to fame,
Is taught to take the knocks to come, is taught to play the game.
We learn to frown on licence, to cherish liberty,
To conquer all by conquering self, to serve as served by thee.
To the hills of Tumbarumba, to the farms of Old Junee,
To the tree-lined streets of Wagga, we go at last from thee.
Though stormy hours may come and go, there'll live in memory still
The happy, happy days we spent at the high school on the hill.
WAR CRY
Yacki Yacki, Ooprah,
Yacki Yacki, Oopray,
Yacki Yacki, Oopray.
Blue, Blue Blue.
Wagga High, Wagga High, yes, we are,
Tooma, Gumly, Heega, Yah.
Burrandana, Humula,
Currawarna, Rah.
We are Wagga High
Wagga Wagga HIGH.