My jacket consisted of many pockets,
with many old stories to tell.
In one of my pockets consisted three stories of murder,
while the other consisted of drug deals,
One of them consisted of me sleeping in a drug house,
for three days straight,
and my inside pocket consisted of me writing songs,
and getting them alot of air play.
I once broke into a house,
and stole back what was rightfully mine.
Still, that is something that absolutely,
nothing can justify.
Eventually I moved to Louisiana,
with nothing to do but watch football and think.
I started to feel the weight of my old Jacket,
as I started loosing my energy.
So after giving myself to Lord one night,
I took off my jacket, through it away,
and felt reborn.
So when I eventually started to feel cold,
Jesus reminded me that he would keep me warm.