Sometimes, when I walk alone My mind drudges up past mistakes Past embarrassment, past awkwardness. It replays them all in a reel So as I try to escape one Another rushes in to take its place. And I start blushing uncomfortably Even though Iβm alone. I remember them all, My feet move faster Like theyβre trying to escape All these barbed memories. I want to erase them all, Like that Spongebob episode Where the drawing comes to life, And Spongebob has to erase it With a giant, high quality, plastic-looking eraser. If I took all these past awkward moments, And embarrassments, and mistakes, And wrote them down On crisp, 11-by-8.5 college rule, And watched them come back to life, Could I erase them? Forever? Could I erase them, With my giant high quality, plastic-looking eraser?