BLUE OYSTER CULT - Pocket lyrics

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<b>Pocket</b> by <i>Blue Oyster Cult</i><br />

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