[Verse 1]
Walking down the block and counting cracks on the wall of a random apartment
Pastel-yellow ribbons on the front door locked of a grocery shop and
I'm seeing my reflection, making weird faces
In the rear view of a stranger's car
I wonder what is like to live in New York and make love with Tom Collins in a bar

[Chorus]
These days I just wanna be on the backseat
I'm sick of driving
I feel mean reds in my head and there's no exit around me
I hate you but I need your validation
Ain't nobody tellin' me what I'm like it
'Cause I'll never get used to anything

[Verse 2]
7am and I'm singing and dancing on the streets
Like nobody gives a shit but they do
I'm aware they make fun of my hair and my black nails
I don't care; I am somewhere in Hollywood
My heart is silver like my skinny jeans zipper
I got James Dean fevers on a Saturday night
I wanna make out in a drive-in theater
Then run from a serial killer, I'm the bookish type

[Chorus]
These days I just wanna be on the backseat
I'm sick of driving
I feel mean reds in my head and there's no exit around me
I hate you but I need your validation
Ain't nobody tellin' me what I'm like it
'Cause I'll never get used to anything

[Outro]
You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing
And you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage
Well baby, you’re already in that cage
You built it yourself, and it’s not bounded in the west
By Tulip, Texas or in the east by Somali-land
It's wherever you go
Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself