Well, here we are at BYU,
There's a fridge, beds, desks, me and you.
See, we are roomies, meaning we share the same space,
(And I hope we don't ever punch eachother in the face.)
Just kidding. We'll get along fine,
As long as you stay on your side of the line.
Ok, just kidding again.
Now where should the real rhyme begin?
We both hail from a place that is green,
Fir trees in Utah remain to be seen.
The mountains here are bleak and brown,
But they are majestic, surrounding the town.
We both like the game of bump, set and spike,
With all of this walking we wish we had a bike.
The dorm food is going to get old very quick.
And I hope niether of us ever gets sick.
There are only four showers on our floor,
Gosh, how I wish there were more.
Right now, even you are waiting for your turn,
But you're still productive, using your textbook to learn.
Every morning we have chocolate milk,
And we venture often over to the Wilk.
One time we even learned to dance,
It was the polka from a guy in dress pants.
Well, this is brief, but it's for good reason, you see.
Last night you kept me up until 3:00.
So this is the end of this silly, pointless ode,
Farewell, my roomie, goodbye to thee I bode.
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