TWELVE-oh-eight, cigarette burns
Books to read and things to learn,
Lists of to do's bounce through my head
Think I'll have another beer instead.

Degree in hand, I march to the mall,
This isn't what I had in mind at all:
Working hard keep those dear shirts folded.
I'm typical college grad whose brain has molded.

What good is this piece a paper after all that I did?
Perhaps after high school I shoulda had a kid
I coulda been useful, doing laundry and things.
Now after a thousand interviews, my phone still never rings.

Fighting with my parents, no friends around
Think I'll find some excuse to run into town.
I wait for yet another day to pass
So I can wake up again and sit on my ass.