Stick Season Lyrics With Video – Noah Kahan | 2022 Song
| Detail | Information |
| Song Name | Stick Season |
| Singer Name | Noah Kahan |
| Lyrics Name | Stick Season |
| Music Director Name | Noah Kahan |
| Label | Mercury / Republic Records |
Stick Season Lyrics
As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combinedYou must have had yourself a change of heartLike halfway through the drive‘Cause your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit signKept on driving straight and left our future to the rightNow I am stuck between my anger
And the blame that I can’t faceAnd memories are somethingEven smoking weed does not replaceAnd I am terrified of weather ’cause I see you when it rainsDoc told me to travel, but there’s COVID on the planes
And I love Vermont, but it’s the season of the sticks and ISaw your mom she forgot that I existed andIt’s half my fault, but I just like to play the victimI’ll drink alcohol ’til my friends come home for ChristmasAnd I’ll dream each night of some version of youThat I might not have, but I did not loseNow you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoesAnd I’m split in half, but that’ll have to do, ooh, ooh
So I thought that if I piled something good on all my badThat I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dadNo, I am no longer funny ’cause I miss the way you laughOnce called me forever now you still can’t call me back
And I love Vermont, but it’s the season of the sticks and ISaw your mom she forgot that I existed andIt’s half my fault, but I just like to play the victimI’ll drink alcohol ’til my friends come home for ChristmasAnd I’ll dream each night of some version of youThat I might not have, but I did not loseNow you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoesAnd I’m split in half, but that’ll have to do, ooh, ooh
Oh, that’ll have to doMy other half was youI hope this pain’s just passing throughBut I doubt it
And I love Vermont, but it’s the season of the sticks and ISaw your mom she forgot that I existed andIt’s half my fault, but I just like to play the victimI’ll drink alcohol ’til my friends come home for ChristmasAnd I’ll dream each night of some version of youThat I might not have, but I did not loseNow you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoesAnd I’m split in half, but that’ll have to do
Have to do, ooh
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