Pockets to hold them downPockets to keep them aroundPockets to shoot them inPockets to fill when you winPockets to cram a jammed fingered glovePockets to fill the plate of loveAnd to hide the weepers lost and foundTo pull them highI ain’t going downPockets if turbulent crowdPockets of keen accusationPockets of strong resistancePockets of weak informationPockets to cram a jammed fingered glovePockets to fill the plate of loveAnd to hide the weepers lost and foundTo pull them highI ain’t going downBrеaking the sealOn the lawn of displayWith hands in my pockеtsAnd my back turned away
