Testo Pocket

The blossoms are falling,

Making a white path across the grass

Thunderheads are building, your skin tightens

And you wait for the flash


Across the street, the boys are laughing

As they wash each other's cars

They turn up the hip-hop

White boys

Rapping with the black stars



Are you in the pocket of the moment in this particular second
Screwed into the socket of the moment in this particular second

Where time cannot be reckoned

Are you in the pocket of the moment



Overhead a rumble, it's not thunder,

It's a 747

The postman grumbles, it's past eleven

The street is sixth

It should be seventh



You hear the chiming of the ice cream truck

Rambling like in a dream

I hear your footsteps behind me

The sweetest eddy in the stream



Are you in the pocket of the moment in this particular second

Screwed into the socket of the moment in this particular second

Where time cannot be reckoned

Are you in the pocket of the moment



Are you in the pocket of the moment in this particular second

Screwed into the socket of the moment in this particular second

Where time cannot be reckoned

Are you in the pocket of the moment



Are you in the pocket of the moment in this particular second

Screwed into the socket of the moment in this particular second

Where time cannot be reckoned

Are you in the pocket of the moment