The school bell rings, I'm late for class
at this rate, I'll never pass.
College essays, school ones too,
every day, a new one's due.
What will I do? I do not know.
A real good college, I must go.
Will it be psych, education or C.J for me?
So much to do, so much to see.
My teachers are yelling, "your work's not done!"
If these are the 'Golden Years,' why aren't they fun?
I go through the motions to get through the day.
Soon these will be memories, faded and gray.
Time is slipping, June is coming soon,
for a scholarship, I wrote this tune.