pockets

To the me that lay there staring at the clock

Waiting for the hours to pass

In due time now you'll be begging it to stop

Doing anything to make them last, now

Don't think this train is ever slowing up, oh

Don't blink or you might just miss them sneaking up cause

These nights they'll

Have you on your knees before you know it

Searching for pockets of living

In these days that seem to float on by