In my pocket

Three shadows in my pocket, running wild and free

Endless whispers in the dark, just echoes of me

No more dreams to chase, only excuses I defend

Lost in the silence, where beginnings seem to end

They follow me, three whispers of the past

Running along the edge, hoping it will last

Ideas clash like thunder, envy in the air

Pockets filled with nothing, just a hollow glare

Damn the truths I hide, belief I can't see

Unconscious chains that bind eternally

Nothing left to give, just wounds and words

Sinking into stories that no one heard

Three times I fall, three times I rise

Pouring pain under the weight of my disguise

Teeth clenched tight, wounds in the night

Lost in the crime of not knowing what's right

Service to nobody, chained by silent cries

Crimes of the quiet, where conscience dies

Poor souls wandering, unjust and small

Caught in the shadow of a silent wall

Three women in my pocket, running endlessly

Beyond the quarrels of envy, seeking what’s free

Nothing remains but echoes and fears

Facing the mirror, shedding silent tears