“The Lakes” Lyrics From Taylor Swift

“The Lakes” (stylized in all lowercase) is a song by American singer-songwriter Taylor Swift, taken from the deluxe edition of her eighth studio album, Folklore (2020). Written and produced by Swift and Jack Antonoff, “The Lakes” is a midtempo indie ballad, set to acoustic guitar and strings, with themes of introspection and escapism that reflect Swift’s semi-retirement at Windermere, England’s largest natural lake.

An orchestral version of “The Lakes”, which was the original demo, was released as a promotional single by Republic Records on July 24, 2021, to commemorate Folklore’s first anniversary. The 7-inch single from “The Lakes” sold exclusively to independent record stores on April 23, 2022, as part of the 2022 Record Store Day limited edition vinyl release.

Upon its release, “The Lakes” received universal acclaim from music critics, with praise for its sophisticated poetic lyrics, and melancholy instrumentals; many have called it a highlight of Folklore and one of the finest songs in Swift’s discography. The song debuted on the top 10 of the Canadian Digital Song Sales and US Digital Song Sales charts, and reached number 21 on the Scottish and UK Single Download Charts, and number 27 in Hungary.

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Lyrics The Lakes – Taylor Swift

Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?
I’m not cut out for all these cynical clones
These hunters with cell phones

Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m setting off, but not without my muse

What should be over burrowed under my skin
In heart-stopping waves of hurt
I’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze
Tell me what are my words worth

Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m setting off, but not without my muse

I want auroras and sad prose
I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet
‘Cause I haven’t moved in years
And I want you right here

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground
With no one around to tweet it
While I bathe in cliffside pools
With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m setting off, but not without my muse
No, not without you


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