THE POCKETS
A sudden miscue, a thoughtless mistake
pocket's of darkness could be your fate
keep the rack tight, be ready for attack
always be watching your brothers back
figure the roll of the jungles green
enemy's in hiding and can't be seen
listen for the sounds, a snapping stick
better be ready, better be quick
On the table, playing a life and death game
eliminating opponents, but gaining no fame
shoot straight brothers the pockets are small
as one exits this table they'll roll and fall
Charlie a solid and the home team
stripes, our Brothers, fighting machines
wages are high, winning means life
clear this table, protecting the stripes
This slate once filled, now only a few
sent to the pockets by a dangerous cue
replacements standing by, ready to re-rack
game after game of these deadly attacks
there are no winners in this game of grief
sinking the eight brings little relief
reward for victory, a restless night
one day closer to a homebound flight