Pockets Of My Jeans

I saw you turn the other cheek and smile
I saw my father walk that lonely mile
I saw a girl with a guitar at the crack of dawn
I saw a beggar sitting in the cold with just an old Nirvana t-shirt on

I saw the flames of Jupiter reach across the sky
I saw a preacher selling expensive lies, I didn’t bother to ask him why
I saw four young men from nowhere change the world with Yeah Yeah Yeah
I saw blood against the windows of a florist shop somewhere

So many things I saw today
I don’t know what to do or say
I’m scared of thinking what it means
I just thought you’d like to see them too
So I brought these pictures home to you
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans
Hey!

I heard the winter’s first and only snowflake fall
I heard the sound of rustling skirts like Degas sketches in the mall
I heard the whisper of the traffic in a hubcap down on Second Beach
I heard the crying of discarded kids somewhere desperately out of reach
Heard the bells of freedom chime for black South Africa
I heard Americans talk like Americans pretending to be Americans everywhere
Even in America

There’s a million things I heard today
I don’t know what to do or say
I’m scared of thinking what it means
I just thought you’d like to hear them too
So I bought their soundtracks back to you
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of my jeans

I know the end is coming and it doesn’t matter when
I know the end is a beginning, it happens every now and then
Worlds collide and tears explode
Our songs are SOS percussion, messages in Morse code

I know the kids can hear me, there is nothing to explain
I hear murmurs of disapproval, but they won’t make me change my name again
Again

So whatever this is all about
I’ll say it straight, I’ll sing it out
We don’t need no one to tell us what it means
I’m sure you've got some pictures too
With no one else to show them to
Stuffed in the pockets of your jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of your jeans
Stuffed in the pockets of our jeans