'Twas the night before finals, And all through the college, The students were praying For last-minute knowledge. Out in the taverns, A few were still drinking, And hoping that liquor Would loosen their thinking. In my own room, I had been pacing, And dreading exams I soon would be facing. My roommate was speechless, His nose in his book, And my comments to him Drew unfriendly looks. I drained all the coffee, And brewed a new pot, No longer caring That my nerves were shot. I stared at my notes, But my thoughts were all muddy; My eyes went ablur, And I just couldn't study. "Some pizza might help," I said with a shiver, But each place I called Refused to deliver. I'd nearly concluded That life was too cruel, With futures depending On grades earned in school. When all of a sudden Our door opened wide And Patron Saint Put-It-Off Ambled inside. His spirit was careless, His manner was mellow, But summoning effort He started to bellow: "What kind of student Would make such a fuss To toss back at teachers What they have tossed us? On Cliff Notes! On Crib Notes! On Last Year's Exams! On Wing-it and Sling-it, And Last-Minute Crams!" His message delivered, He vanished from sight, But we heard him laughing Outside in the night: "Your teachers have pegged you, So just do your best Happy Finals to all, And to All, a good test."