Turn me on, turn me off
Then you turn me back on by the weekend
And you won't say the words that I want
But you flirt when you're drinkin'
I see those bubbles pop up
Like you're texting then they disappear
Let's cut through the shit then
Let's get to what we're doing here

Are we just a backseat
Tryna get it while we can?
Are we names in a tattoo
Or just a number on a hand?
Are we last-call kissing
Or will we be reminiscing with each other
For the next forty years?
Are we written in the stars, baby?
Or are we written in the sand?

Yeah, I want you to want me
To take you back home to my mama
Put my name on your lips
Call me yours and forget all this drama (forget it all)
Your makeup is next to my toothbrush
But you never put it away on the shelf
I'm asking you baby
'Cause I'm tired of asking myself (I'm tired of asking myself)

Are we just a backseat
Tryna get it while we can?
Are we names in a tattoo
Or just a number on a hand?
Are we last-call kissing
Are we dancing in the kitchen
Baby tell me what it is or what it isn't?
Are we written in the stars, baby?
Or are we written in the sand?

Are we just a backseat
Tryna get it while we can?
Are we names in a tattoo
Or just a number I should wash right off my hand? (Wash right off my)
Are we last-call kissing
Or will we be reminiscing with each other
For the next forty years?
Are we written in the stars, baby?
Or are we written in the sand?
Are we written in the stars, baby?
Or are we written in the sand?

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Brad Francis Tursi, Matthew Thomas Ramsey, Shane L McAnally, Trevor Joseph Rosen