22

22 is that 'who cares about tomorrow' silly joy. Twenty-two, no plan, friends nearby, drink in hand — that's enough. It isn't deep, it's delighted.

I miss songs written at that age — not seeing through things, not needing to yet. She writes 'young' as a privilege: allowed to mess up, be absurd, laugh till your stomach hurts at 2am. You finish thinking, ah, that was good, because you didn't have to understand so much.

This is an interpretation based on publicly available material. Not official commentary.

Full lyrics are not reproduced here to respect copyright.