2002-10-19 at 5:12 p.m.

A Poem

The end of term is almost here,

And I am rather filled with fear.

(I�m also rather filled with beer,

But that�s irrelevent).

I tell you, once I graduate

I�ll damn well feel so fucking great!

(That is, until I calculate

The money that I�ve spent.)

Oh, what then will become of me,

Once I have my B.Mus degree?

Will I become an employee,

For some big corporation?

No! I�ll be doing honours year!

I�m never, ever leaving here,

So I can work on my career-

Full-time procrastination.

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