Four Seasons Growing Inside Me

You think you know

The question is do I know who I am?

I am the crumpled up unwanted receipts in your wallet, the left over slummy in that car door - used occasionally

I am the burden of a Sunday morning hangover, the stale smell of cigarette smoke and the taste of drips left in vodka bottles

I am the parts you hate about yourself and wish you could change

I am the old book gathering dust as days pass by

I am that song overplayed on the radio

I am that annoying piece of cotton you pull and it continues to fray

I am everything you never wanted to hear

Up until I met you

I thought I knew who I was

Now I'm not too sure