Pocket

It feels like a far-fetch from camping in chrome
It's not familiar, but it's not unknown
Your boy needs a bit, but there aren't anymore
So, do unto neighbor as they've done before

If it's in my pocket, it opens the door
I'll have it my way, you'll sleep on the floor
I used to be sweet, now
I'm battered and bored of amusement

Another write-up, but who is it for?
We're choked up and graved off the government gore
We're making excuses for things left unseen
Well, if you're gonna cook, then, baby, you gotta clean

If it's in my pocket, it opens the door
So, I'll have it my way, you'll sleep on the floor
I used to be sweet, now I'm battered and bruised
And I'm bored of amusement, I'm sore from confusion

I want this to be done
I want this to be done
I want this to be done

'Cause if it's in my pocket, it opens the door
So, I'll have it my way, you'll sleep on the floor
I used to be sweet, now I'm battered and bruised
And I'm bored of amusement, I'm sore