Rearview Testimony (wersja 2)

Intro

Green sedan, cracked mirror, dice hung from a string

Odometer stuck at a number that don't mean a thing

Verse

Uncle Renny left the keys under the mat by the drain

Told me drive it slow, the brakes got a stutter and a strain

Bench seat torn, stuffing showing through like a scar

Glovebox got a Sharpie list, half the block rode this car

Took my grandmother to dialysis, Tuesday, six a.m.

Air freshener pine tree faded, hanging by a hem

Same wagon took my cousin to the courthouse in March

Same wagon idled outside when the deacon lit the porch

Tint peeling off the back glass like a scab comes undone

Mirror's crooked on purpose so I see everyone

Every ride I've taken, every favor, every debt

Every name in that glovebox I ain't paid off yet

Gas gauge lives on empty, story of my life

Borrowed trust runs longer than the headlights at night

I check that mirror twice before I pull from the curb

Cause what's behind you always catches up, unswerved

Chorus

Rearview don't lie, it testify

Every mile behind me still alive

I drive with the weight in the glass

Rearview testimony, built to last

Verse

Fifteen years old, first time I drove it alone

Took a detour for a favor, dropped a bag, kept it low

Never told my uncle where the wagon really been

Wiped the seat down after, thought that closed the sin

Glovebox got a name I added, wasn't proud to write

Kid from Fenwick Street, ran with me one bad night

He got picked up two blocks later, wagon still warm

Never said my name though, took the weather, took the storm

Owed him something heavier than money ever paid

Started driving elders after, that's the debt I made

Every hospital run, every ride to church on time

Chipping at a stain that ink can't wash off a line

Mirror caught his face once, swore I saw him grin

Told myself the wagon carries more than just the sin

Carries who we were before the corner had a say

Carries who we choose when we get one more day

Chorus

Rearview don't lie, it testify

Every mile behind me still alive

I drive with the weight in the glass

Rearview testimony, built to last

Bridge

Handed Renny's keys to my nephew, twelve years old

Told him check that mirror, told him what it holds

He asked why the glovebox full of names he don't know

I said that's the toll, son, that's how the wagon go

Every hand that held it left a little of the load

So drive it slow, and give back more than what it showed

Outro

Mirror's still crooked, dice still swinging free

Whatever's behind you rides shotgun eventually