Whitney Lyrics by Katie Tupper
My best, my only, kill off my lonely
I never said enough
Sweet like peach skin, not scared of bruising
I wanna wrap you up
Always on the run, but never empty-handed
Dirt turns into mud
Mud turns into pavement
I wish you could just call and come over
I hate that growing up means getting older
Your hand in my hand, tall grass on the backseat
My witness, my Whitney, oh Whitney
Headlights like TV
Spill out on side streets
I love lying to see if they catch on
You like a big hit, see who can take it
But you got some weak wrists
Always on the run, but never empty-handed
Dirt turns into mud
Mud turns into pavement
I wish you could just call and come over
I hate that growing up means getting older
Your hand in my hand, tall grass on the backseat
My witness, my Whitney, oh Whitney
I wish you could just call and come over
I hate that growing up means getting older
Your hand in my hand, tall grass on the backseat
My witness, my Whitney, oh Whitney
We get lost in the tall grass
Use headlights till your car dies
Fall asleep on the same couch
I’m yours and you’re mine
You’re made up of big fields, wildfires
I’m made up in your mind
We get lost in the tall grass
Use headlights till your car dies
Fall asleep on the same couch
I’m yours and you’re mine
You’re made up of big fields, wildfires
I’m made up in your mind