Best hope: B minus

Paper's been stressin' me out
The due date is soon-ish so I'm in the shit
Whole process is pain especially since
Parameters I got are barely a list
Told to write a paper, on what? I can pick
The format? My choice, too, I would like that bit
Though there's still a minimum page number, damn it
I really don't like it, I hope that point sticks

I've started from scratch five times, maybe six
It's hard to keep count when your last coffee drip
Was decaf because it's approachin' half-ten
Ev'ry hour is precious, I need to use them
Been writin' for weeks, key-tappin' until
The mad stream-of-consciousness nonsense I spill
Results in the best topic, beyond reproach
'Til then it's a scramble to get to that shit
Kept all I've written in case somethin' clicks
And I must pull that old shit out the bin
Helps that I save after ev'ry sentence
Sometimes after words when paranoia hits
Hit double of the minimum pages
Gettin' close to triple, but I still hate it
Cause though "minimum" is a flash word for "smallest"
Twenty is the number that I'm workin' with
Words keep flyin' out from deep in my brain
Talkin' 'bout all subjects from wallets to planes
To monkeys to robots to Batman to sneakers
It's like Wikipedia distilled and sprayed
Proud of the flow but it has to change
Because there's no topic that's really displayed
Like I hacked into a stand-up comic's brain
Transcribed their material onto the page
But then I squeezed the comedy out
In those last three lines, such weird topics abound
I could give 'em focus, might turn out alright
But I'm in no state of risk takin' right now
Gotta keep movin' with my stupid choice
To type crap forever with the constant noise
Of clickety-clackety from my old keyboard
Now I've done three pages on how that annoys

Paper's still stressin' me out
The due date is loomin', feel I'm in the shit
The flow from my brain like a ten-can piss
That sounds gross but I've lost my filter from this
Waitin' on a paper to emerge, I'm miffed
This could be a record for most words typed in
While never approachin' a point, kinda hopin'
That's the case, then somethin' will come out of this

I just got a cramp in my thumb
Somethin' with which I'll just have to deal
The submission date is comin' up
Nothin' here I can submit, I feel
I bet that I look like such a putz
Should've asked the teacher "What's the deal?"
Asked for more direction, but I suck
Now I've got three pages about seals

Two novels of drivel at my estimation
Wish it would flow into hope, but I'm stumped
No time to panic, I'm writin' 'bout cabbage
How far it travels with a hefty punt
No, I won't tell you because then you'd know that
Wanna keep secret, this paper from hell
Until I stop it, find meanin' in bollocks
You won't crack this metaphoric nut shell
Readin' my words back, somehow they compel
And I forget that those words mean nothin'
Hang on, I got it, the trick to my nonsense
I hope that the teacher will laugh when it clicks
That my title of "The use of rhetoric
To obscure a lack of content" is a trick
So now the only difficult part of it
Is where to cut myself off, wait a tic, savin'

It's worth all the cramps in my thumb
I'm so giddy, that pain, I can't feel
The submission date is comin' up
Perfect thing I can submit, sweet deal
I know that I might look like a dunce
Teacher's fault for sayin' jack, for real
Not expectin' more than a B+
Even then, that would be quite surreal

Pullin' that from my ass is unreal
Little bit completely damn surreal
What I started with? Still more unreal