Long, long time ago, I can still remember how that coursebook used to make me smile. And I knew that if I had the chance, I would take four guts fail/pass. And maybe I'd be happy for a while. But tutorials made me shiver, with every paper they delivered. Bad news on my transcript, I still had three cores left. And I can't remember if I cried when I got lotteried from Samurai. But something touched me deep inside the day midterms arrived.

So why, why do we bother to try? Took my backpack to Widener stacks and I let out a sigh. Them all-nighters were drinking coffee and chai singing "This will be the day they arrive. This will be the day they arrive."

Do you know about demand, and will you say tax cuts are real grand, if Martin Feldstein tells you so? Now do you set realistic goals? Can bell curves save your mortal soul? And can you teach me not to write real slow? Well I know that they'll be grading hard, 'cause I saw my TF in the Yard. I tried plead mercy, but he refused to agree. I'm a procrastinator run amuck, with a broken laptop and coursebooks that suck, and I knew that I was out of luck the day midterms arrived.

I started singing why, why do we bother to try? Took my backpack to Widener stacks and I let out a sigh. Them all-nighters were drinking coffee and chai singing "This will be the day they arrive. This will be the day they arrive."

For the past six weeks we should have known that hourlies would make us groan, but we were not that wise you see. For while it was still warm and green, the lecture hall was not the scene and section no good place to be. But while we were fooling around, the add/drop clock was ticking down. Last Monday it did pass. Now we're stuck in that damn class. No choice now but to read that Marx, while social schedules become stark. Prepare to stay up way past dark, the day midterms arrive.

And we were singing why, why do we bother to try? Took my backpack to Widener stacks and I let out a sigh. Them all-nighters were drinking coffee and chai singing "This will be the day they arrive. This will be the day they arrive."

Helter skelter in midterm swelter. Run to a study carrel and grab shelter. Grades once high are falling fast. So, remind me why I took that class. Am I stuck in a huge morass? Or did the CUE Guide say I could pass? Now the Lamont air was filled with stress as students crammed under duress. We wanted to go to bed, but there were ten books yet unread. And as we tried to learn ID's, to avoid earning dreaded C's, we cursed students who were at ease the day midterms arrived.

And they were singing why, why do we bother to try? Took my backpack to Widener stacks and I let out a sigh. Them all-nighters were drinking coffee and chai singing "This will be the day they arrive. This will be the day they arrive."