I think about it all the time

The most vulnerable track in Charli's BRAT cycle strips away all green-tinted bravado to reveal something genuinely frightened and wondering. Justin Vernon's presence transforms everything—his falsetto, fractured and humid with longing, wraps around Charli's cooler vocal like warmth encountering glass. The production breathes in long, sustained phrases, ambient textures drifting beneath the melody like weather systems moving through an empty room. Lyrically the content circles questions of reproduction, legacy, and insufficient time—whether to become a parent, whether the world merits bringing someone into it, whether the relentless forward motion of a pop career leaves space for the domestic and the mortal. It is, quietly, one of the more honest pop songs about the tension between creative ambition and biological urgency, spoken in the language of two artists with nothing left to prove. Vernon's contribution doesn't register as a feature so much as a conversation partner—someone to think alongside in the dark. The emotional register is rare in contemporary pop: genuinely ruminative, sitting with uncertainty rather than resolving it, comfortable with unanswered questions in a form that usually demands resolution. Play it late at night when familiar questions resurface with no satisfying answers available, only the comfort of knowing someone else is lying awake with the same ones.