Walked a young man
With his shaggy jacket on his shoulders
Among the lips looked dry
Tucked into weeds
Clearly staring at the clouds
The moody face was becoming visible
With an unfocused move
Sweat mixed with street dust
You are a young scholar
Frustrated looking for work
Rely on your diploma
Four years
Wrestle with books
'Tuk the future guarantee
Your footsteps stopped
In front of the page an answer
Profoundly listened you stepped
From the expected office door
Told the word no vacancy
For work that is in demand
No matter trying again
But the same word you get
Clearly staring at the clouds
The moody face was becomin
You are a young scholar
Frustrated looking for work
Not worth your diploma
Four years
Wrestle with books