I bet if you emptied out my room
And I was left lying on my oak wood floor
I could point to every spot a tear has dropped
And ever Polaroid picture I’ve ever snapped

I bet if you rolled up my sleeves
I could see all the invisible scratch marks
I could trace over all the thin lines
Even at the the same pace as the first time

I bet if you disassembled my car
And all the metal was still remaining
I could write a play as grand as Shakespeare’s
About all the pain I endured in the backseat

I bet if you told me I was from Brooklyn
I would say you were crazy but my accent wouldn’t
Because they say “fuhgeddaboudit”
But I never truly will