Stick Season (Live from BBC Radio 1's Live Lounge)-Olivia Rodrigo

Stick Season (Live from BBC Radio 1's Live Lounge)

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Stick Season (Live from BBC Radio 1's Live Lounge) - Olivia Rodrigo

Composed by:Noah Kahan

As you promised me that

I was more than all the miles combined

You must've had yourself

A change of heart like halfway through the drive

Because your voice trailed

Off exactly as you passed my exit sign

Kept on drivin' straight and

Left our future to the right

Now I am stuck between my

Anger and the blame that I can't face

And memories are somethin'

Even smoking w**d cannot replace

And I am terrified of weather

'Cause I see you when it rains

Doc told me to travel

But there's COVID on the planes

And I love Vermont

But it's the season of the sticks

And I saw your mom

She forgot that I existed

And it's half my fault

But I just like to play the victim

I'll drink alcohol 'til my

Friends come home for Christmas

And I'll dream each night

Of some version of you

That I might not have

But I did not lose

Now you're tire tracks

And one pair of shoes

And I'm split in half

But that'll have to do

So I thought that if I piled

Something good on all my bad

That I could cancel out the

Darkness I inherited from dad

No I am no longer funny

'Cause I miss the way you laugh

You once called me forever

Now you still can't call me back

And I love Vermont

But it's the season of the sticks

And I saw your mom

She forgot that I existed

And it's half my fault

But I just like to play the victim

I'll drink alcohol 'til my

Friends come home for Christmas

And I'll dream each night

Of some version of you

That I might not have

But I did not lose

Now you're tire tracks

And one pair of shoes

And I'm split in half

But that'll have to do

Oh that'll have to do

My other half was you

And I hope this pain's

Just passin' through

But I doubt it

Ay I love Vermont

But it's the season of the sticks

And I saw your mom

She forgot that I existed

And it's half my fault

But I just like to play the victim

I'll drink alcohol 'til my

Friends come home for Christmas

And I'll dream each night

Of some version of you

That I might not have

But I did not lose

Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes

And I'm split in half

But that'll have to do

Have to do

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