Twas the night before Blowout, and all through the College
Not a student was studying, full of the knowledge
That just the next morning would be a great day
Where classes were canceled and all could play
The students were planning their days full of fun
With prayers that the weather gods would bring them some sun
My roommate with her fanny pack and I with my tank
Where so high in spirits that we could not be sank
When outside our window there come such a shout
That we had to peer out and see what was about
To the Sunken Gardens we rushed and expected to see
A streaker or two, or possibly three
The moon shone down and lit up the grass
And to my surprise there was no naked ass
But instead I saw emerging near Wren
What appeared to be a gathering of young ghost men
Their voices were loud, their words full of cheer
In each of their hands they were holding a beer
They were making gestures that seemed quite intense
And then they saw me approaching they summoned me hence
As I reached their rag-tag band of brothers
A leader emerged, and said to the others:
“On Seniors, On Juniors, On Sophomores, On Freshmen
On all of those students who need a release of tension!!”
“Oh no” I replied, “you’ve made a mistake
“Blowout is the twenty-ninth, today is the twenty-eighth
You may find some students scattered about
But I doubt you’ll find many who decided to go out”
At first, it appeared that they were confused
They did not quite know how to take my news
But then their eyes lit up and their smiles grew wide
And it was clear they all agreed on what to decide
They started toward New Campus, to toast their freshman halls
And retrieve all the beer cans they left in the walls
And I heard them exclaim, as they stumbled out of sight—
“A Happy Blowout to all, and to all a good night!”