Pockets are empty

Lyrics

[Verse 1 - sparse acoustic guitar fingerpicking, gravelly male vocals with weary drawl, faint harmonica sighs]

Can't drag myself from this lonesome bed,
Still lost in slumber's heavy hold,
Waitin' for that dreaded bell to ring,
Pull me from this warmth, out into the cold.

[Pre-Chorus - slow-building slide guitar wail, rising tension in raspy whispers]
Tiresome miles stretch like a year gone by,
Drivin' for the man in his silk-thread throne,
Suit costs more than my week's blood and sweat,
While I'm scrapin' dirt from these calloused bones.

[Chorus - full gritty band kick-in, heavy stompin' drums, howling harmonica over driving rhythm guitar, desperate baritone belt]

Pockets empty, someone's always thievin',
Tired of this grind, this world's cruel game,
Light fades to darkness, shadows closin' in,
Holdin' on tight, but it's all the same.

[Verse 2 - muted banjo plucks, deeper bluesy growl, distant thunderous bass drum echoes]

Bills pile high like graves in the yard,
Dreams stolen quick by the taxman's hand,
Workin' my fingers to the bone for nothin',
Watchin' the rich man sip whiskey grand.

[Chorus - intensified with distorted electric guitar bite, layered backing growls, thunderous snare cracks]

Pockets empty, someone's always thievin',
Tired of this life, this endless chain,
Seen the light twist to midnight black,
Clingin' to hope through the pourin' rain.

[Bridge - stripped to lone resonator guitar, vulnerable falsetto croon fading into echoey moans]

I'm weary down to my achin' soul,
This world's a trap, no mercy shown,
One more dawn, one more fight to stand,
But the darkness calls me home.

[Outro - fading slide guitar lament, reverb-soaked harmonica trails, whispers dissolving into wind-swept silence]

Tired... so tired... holdin' on... for what it's worth...