Twas the night before finals and all throughout Emory
Not a person was ready, with their sleep-deprived memories
Notes were flung ‘round the tables without any care
In hopes that the answers would somehow be there.
The freshmen were nestled in their study rooms
While this taste of their future four years seals their doom
And Swoop in his suit and Dooley in her cape
Had failed to bring hope of some kind of escape
When out on the quadrangle there arose such a noise
EPD with free coffee or just more drunk frat boys?
But I ignored it and instead focused on class
Since I have QTM, bio, and chem up my ass
The stacks of the libs are a good place to concentrate
In the few aisles that sad, lonely boys do not masturbate
When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
But the first open study booth since the beginning of the year
With a functioning outlet and room to spread out
I knew in a moment it must be my hangout
I raced to the booth, a grin on my face
When the online shopping skank from my lecture stole my place
Fuck finals! Fuck studying! Fuck Rue 21!
Fuck TAs and bell curves, I’m so fucking done!
From essays to exams, what even matters?
The job market is already in goddamn tatters.
As screwed students do when they reach an impasse
I traded in my books for my trusty shot glass
Finals are tomorrow but my patience is gone
Time to get lit at Sigma Alpha Epsilon