Here’s the time when students die.
Teachers scourge; teachers bruise.
Sleeping is a bloodshot lie.
Can’t escape the Finals Week Blues.
Swollen gums, lack of food,
gulping down all the booze.
Neurons swarm into a feud.
They've all got the Finals Week Blues.
Tylenol, the saving grace,
caffeine cups of overuse.
Pupils burn with notebook mace,
spraying from the Finals Week Blues.
Set alarms, get your rest.
You have got to pay your dues.
There’s no time to wink or jest,
Rise on up now for your quest,
Flood the ink onto your test,
At least you’ll say you did your best.
Let’s forget the Finals Week Blues.
