Snaps go out to you, Oh Men of Penn, both Anglo Saxons and Jews alike
It is you I envision as I dehydrate on Pottruck’s exercise bike
For this institution is laden with gentlemen hailing from as far as Pittsburgh and New Jersey
I don’t care about what my therapist said, for you did not coerce me
In the morn, you put me in a cab on 43rd and Pine
Never offer to pay, but that is a burden that is mine

Not intelligent, but wealthy, since to your trust funds you constantly allude
Cultured and Enlightened, patronize Zates and Castle to go around the world in 80 dudes
An open book, because about yourself you remain vocal
Yet you shy away when we are accosted by locals
Grateful was I, when you took me to La Viola, a moderately expensive act of love
Disheartened I was, when I began to show symptoms of the STD you weren’t admitting of

So have pity on me as I trudge to your registered party in hair too bleached and heels too high
Reeling from the fact that to my text message you did not reply
Because Oh Quaker man you keep me coming back like a moth to a light
Been hooked since NSO, when you asked, “You’re A Freshman Right?”