Twas the night before mid-terms, and all through the quad,
Not a coed was stirring in old Ha’vard Ya’d.
Modems and networking cables were tucked away with some care,
In the hopes that a real live girl might one day visit here.
Dustin and the gang were half asleep on their beds,
While visions of Microsoft job offers danced in their heads.
And I at the keyboard, and Eduardo hoping we don’t get caught,
Had just settled down to hack into who is “Hot or Not.”
A ruckus interrupted the code I’d....