Pockets
Robert Pollard
Pockets to hold them down
Pockets to keep them around
Pockets to shoot them in
Pockets to fill when you win
Pockets to cram a jammed fingered glove
Pockets to fill the plate of love
And to hide the weepers lost and found
To pull them high, I ain't going down
Pockets of turbulent crowd
Pockets of keen accusation
Pockets of strong resistance
Pockets of weak information
Pockets to cram a jammed fingered glove
Pockets to fill the plate of love
And to hide the weepers lost and found
To pull them high, I ain't going down
Breaking the seal on the lawn of display
With hands in my pockets
And my back turned away
Pockets to cram a jammed fingered glove
Pockets to fill the plate of love
And to hide the weepers lost and found
To pull them high, I ain't going down