The view from Sunday is not one I enjoy.
Looking at a week that I know will destroy.
Projects and Essays, all this shit I should do.
My fucking professor threw a test in there too!
I have no time to study, I have no time to sleep.
And this huge stack of note cards makes me want to weep.
From Sunday the weekend looks so far away.
When I’m not even sure I’ll survive the next day.
I’m stuck and I can’t move, now that I’ll admit.
Cause I’m buried alive under all of this shit!
The amount of caffeine I drink makes me all dizzy.
No, I can’t text you back, bitch, don’t you see that I’m busy?
So I just write a poem, and try to forget.
The week that hasn’t quite gotten here yet.