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Lyrics

She was five-foot four with some money on the floor
And a box that's hidden under her bed
I was only 22 with a pocket full of truth
But I gave her everything that I had

We were born and raised in the Golden State
Mommy's gone and daddy's doing his best
I was brought up great, living Section 8
Social security's paying the rent, oh-oh-oh (ooh)

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The landlord called, she said, "You gotta go" (ooh)
Little one, you just lost your (ooh)
(Yeah)

She was five-foot four getting money on tour
But her socks were at the end of my bed
Got our names tattooed on each other
Just to prove to each other that we'd do what we said

Only took a few days 'til our minds were made up
We thought we should try it again
I was only 17 when we first tried things
When she first made me feel like a man, oh (ooh)

Who am I gonna call? (Ooh)
Who's gonna catch me when I- (ooh)
Who's the one you're sleeping with? (Ooh)

Well, don't you sit in front of me and wait for me to talk
You can call me up
Phone works two ways, you know?
This time, baby, yeah, I think that I'll be just fine
I wish I could say the same for you
I, yeah, I do, I (hey)

To those of you in which I choose to always be the closest to
There's something that you need to know, loving me is not a joke
You can put it all on me, you can laugh and you can bleed
And I'll adopt it all because that's just what a buddy does

I loved you from minute one, the iced tea to my lemonade
Never one to hit-and-run, soaking every minute made
You can give me all your juice, I can squeeze it out for you
All I ask you in exchange, love me back through every phase

If it ever comes off wrong or leaves you with a bitter taste
Just remember you're the tea
And I'm your sour lemonade, I'm your sour lemonade

Writer(s): Brandon Fried, Jesse Rutherford, Jeremy Freedman, Mike Margott, Zachary Abels, Justyn Pilbrow

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