'Henry, Come On' and Lana’s Latest Era

Photo from @honeymoon on Instagram

Henry, come on

Verse 1:

"I mean, Henry, come on / Do you think I'd really choose it? / All this off and on / Henry, come on / I mean, baby, come on / Do you think I'd really lose it on ya / If you did nothin' wrong? / Henry, come on"

The repeated “Henry, come on” feels like both a plea and a resignation. She’s tired. This isn’t begging, it’s exasperation from a woman who’s been here too many times. There's a kind of wry intimacy in the tone, like she’s speaking to someone who should already know the answers. It’s vulnerable, but guarded too.

Pre-Chorus:

"Last call, 'Hey, y'all' / Hang his hat up on the wall / Tell him that his cowgirl is gone / Go on and giddy up / Soft leather, blue jeans / Call us into void's dreams / Return it but say it was fun"

This pre-chorus leans fully into cowboy imagery — hats on the wall, soft leather, denim — the stuff of a country song, but dreamier. “Call us into void’s dreams” turns to something spiritual. 

Chorus:

"And it's not because of you / That I turned out so dangerous / Yesterday, I heard God say, 'It's in your blood' / And it struck me just like lightning / I've been fightin', I've been strivin' / Yesterday, I heard God say, 'You were born to be the one / To hold the hand of the man / Who flies too close to the sun'"

This chorus opens up something deeper. Lana reflects on her inner chaos, her “dangerous” nature — but not as something someone else caused. It’s inherited, divine, inevitable. This line — “It’s in your blood” — is haunting. The metaphor of being struck by lightning evokes fate, a sudden knowing. She’s not blaming anyone. She’s just wired this way.

Verse 2:

"I'll still be nice to your mom / It's not her fault you're leavin' / Some people come and they're gone / They just fly away / Take your a** to the house / Don't even bother explainin' / There's no workin' it out / No way"

Here, Lana sounds older — not just in age, but in experience. There’s a maturity in these lines, especially in the balance between grace (“I’ll still be nice to your mom”) and refusal (“Take your a** to the house”). She isn’t heartbroken. She’s tired, resolute. She’s not doing the spiral anymore.

“Some people come, and they’re gone / They just fly away” is quietly devastating. It's also very Lana: love as an ephemeral visit, something that happens to you rather than something you control. And yet, this time, she lets it go.

Pre-Chorus:

"It's last call, 'Hey, y'all' / Hang his hat up on the wall / Tell him that his cowgirl is gone / Come on and giddy up / Soft leather, blue jeans / Don't you get it? That's the thing / You can't chase a ghost when it's gone"

The ghost line is a simple truth but so final. You can’t chase someone who’s already left emotionally. She’s not haunted in the way she used to be. The ghost is gone, and this time, she’s not following it into the dark.

Chorus (Reprise):

"And it's not because of you / That I turned out so dangerous / Yesterday, I heard God say, 'It's in your blood' / And it struck me just like lightning / I've been fightin', I've been strivin' / But yesterday, I heard God say, 'You were born to be the one / To hold the hand of the man / Who flies too close to the sun'"

The divine voice here isn’t a justification; it’s a knowing. Finally, she’s not surrendering to the chaos but recognizing that it’s always been in her — and learning how to live with that truth.

Bridge:

"All these country singers / And their lonely rides to Houston / Doesn’t really make for the best / You know, settle-down type"

This is Lana’s self-awareness. She’s always been adjacent to country — the twang in Ride, the storytelling, the melancholy. The ride to Houston becomes a symbol of the loner archetype, one Lana knows well. 

Outro:

The outro repeats the “last call” and “giddy up” lines as if to drive the final nail in the coffin. The cowgirl is gone. The lights are off. She’s out the door — not with drama, but with certainty.

My thoughts:

I think listening to this song a few times and sitting with the lyrics helped me appreciate it so much more. I’ve been a little weary of the current country trend because it can feel like everyone’s throwing on a cowboy hat and calling it a rebrand, but with Lana, it doesn’t feel kitschy. It fits. She’s always had that faded Americana aesthetic: denim, drive-in movies, desert motels, cherry Coke, cowboys and guns and God. So, these lyrics feel more natural than a bandwagon moment.

What I really love is what this song represents for Lana. First, she’s telling a man, with a kind of quiet resignation, that she’s done. And she has every reason to be. She’s over the toxic back-and-forth, begging him to stay, cyclical heartbreak. She’s not spiraling. She’s not screaming into the void. She’s just... walking away. And that alone feels huge for her.

This song almost feels like a letter from current Lana to Born to Die Lana. Or to Ride Lana. That girl with the desperate need to be loved, no matter the cost. “Henry, come on” shares that same twangy, Western cadence as Ride— but now it’s wiser. 

In the chorus, it feels like she’s talking directly to that younger version of herself. To the part of her that always found herself entangled with men like Henry — reckless, unstable, magnetic. And she isn’t blaming them or even blaming herself. She’s saying, I’ve always been this way. It’s in my blood. It’s not a confession; it’s an acceptance. She’s always been the accomplice, the witness, the one holding the hand of the man who flies too close to the sun — not because she didn’t know better, but because it was written in the stars.

What strikes me most is the maturity you can feel pulsing through her recent work. Lana hasn’t lost the wildness inside her, but now she knows how to live with it. She’s building boundaries, not burning bridges. She still romanticizes fate and doom, but she’s also allowing herself to leave when it hurts too much. She's still existential, yes, but there’s a quiet strength in her musings now. She doesn’t need to self-destruct to feel something. She knows how to stay soft and stay alive.