countercouper

I think it makes perfect sense actually.
 
What you have to remember is how heternormative Lana's music and imagery has always been.
 
Given that her persona is pretty much a female take on 20th century heterosexuality (which even the lesbian undertones in Summertime Sadness are perfectly consistent with), I think Lana figured out that a song like MTWBT could easily include too many objectifying shots of men, e.g., homoerotic shots of them shirtless, and be "off brand".
 
I think it was a conscious decision on her part to emphasize: (1) the femaleness of the gaze and (2) the "heterosexuality" of the boys being watched (by having them play basketball - I'm surprised she didn't have them playing baseball).
 
Maybe I'm overthinking this, but if you stop and think about it makes perfect sense.

shes a niche act, she always was, she just got lucky [and sounded a bit more accessible] with btd. the sales of ultraviolence were a side effect to the huge numbers of btd.
 
i dont know why some of you are watching charts and figures daily. her sales are only going to go down from here. some big name acts cant even sell that much, as if lana isnt going to suffer the same fate.
 
shes not taylor swift, we arent going to see her huge rise to fame over a decade with huge booming first week sales and world arena shows. her success was always going to shrink as she kept releasing music. especially when she DOESN;T sell herself like a damn popstar half the time.
 
its like some of you are completely unaware of the artist you've been following for the past 4 damn years.
 
shes debuting at #2 and top 5 in a lot of territories and you're disappointed????

Does anyone else hear "dive deep and die blue my sweet"? Or am I the only who doesn't hear the "-ve" sound? To me it really just sounds like she's saying "I blue my sweet" lol.

Didn't watch the cover but wanted to mention something about singing since I am taking (classically oriented) voice lessons. Voice lessons are basically a requirement for anyone interested in singing seriously. It's very easy to get a "powerful" sound in the short term but lose it in the long term, and you can't support a career on one song (I mean if you want to be known as a one hit wonder and not a singer, go ahead). I disagree that Miley has control over her voice. More than Lana? Yes. Miley has poor technique, though, and whenever I heard her I feel like she's always on the verge of losing control of her voice. Hearing her hit those high notes in "We Can't Stop" is always incredibly painful because she's forcing it so much and it sounds strained. And this is in studio, where she has every modern technology available to make her sound her best.
 
On studio, Lana also has the issue of being off the beat (she's always a little behind in Born To Die, which was absolutely maddening and made me hate the record when I got it), which from I heard from the Brazil concert is also a problem, though thankfully to a lesser extent. Lana is also singing in the part of her voice where she clearly isn't comfortable. She's not a naturally low voiced woman and never will be. She sounds so much more comfortable on For K than on Ride, where you can hear her voice kind of groaning to reach those low notes, and you can notice the lack of ring in her higher notes ("I hear the birds..." "I just Ride). When you have a problem doing your songs in studio, no duh they're gonna be even harder live. In addition, she uses this fake girly high voice that's not her normal voice (think Lolita) which means that no part of her register sounds natural. Add in the stage fright and insecurity (she has no conviction in her vocals) and you get why people say Lana is a bad singer. A pretty timbre can only do so much before poor technique obscures it.
 
With good vocal training (there's a lot of pseudoscience peddled in voice training because it's very hard to actually study the vocal cords; we have no visual confirmation of how the whistle register physiologically works, for example), I do believe Lana could be a much better singer than Miley. She has the timbre, which you can't change, and she can learn to reach the extremes of her range in a healthy manner (no more groaning at the bottom or fluttering at the top). Vocal training can give you the confidence to perform, too. Plenty of famous singers have had stage fright; off the top of my head I can list Barbara Streisand, Frank Sinatra, and Agnetha Faltskog from ABBA. Nevertheless, they went on stage and gave it their all (and Agnetha is much like Lana in that she's an inherently private person who is not interested in being super famous and surrounded by strangers. guess what happened to her).
 
Lana can learn to become a better and more consistent singer (yes, both at the same time) if she wants to, but it would take time and effort. Depending on who you go to and how messed up your voice is, you can actually be taught to sing from the very beginning (I'm p sure this is standard in classical but in a more pop-oriented style someone with major fundamental damage would need to do this). It definitely requires good practice (unlike a physical instrument, the voice itself can get tired and so iirc you shouldn't practice for more than an hour straight a day). Don't know if that interests Lana since she wants to see the world and experience life and stuff. I'd love to hear her sound more comfortable on her songs, though. Lana with a vocal coach would be 

"i'm not going to just sing about things because they rhyme"
 
dark blue
dark blue

"Cause you're high by the beach
High by the beach
High by the beach
High by the beach
White bleach
White bleach"

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

She's no Rilke, but Lana's an exceptional lyricist by contemporary pop standards. She has a distinctive sense of humor, a sharp eye for imagery and a phenomenal ear for wordplay—when she tries:
 

You look like a Florida native
"Are you?" I said, at the rate of
Slow molasses from the state of
Vermont with a southern drawl
 

The way your face is shaped, I wonder if you know
The way you stand up and your silhouette glows
I'm electrified, I'll be up all night now

 

He had a cigarette with his number on it
He gave it over to me, "Do you want it?"
I knew it was wrong but I palmed it
I saved it, I waited, I called it

 

Fellas, if you wanna get that invite quicker
Pack up the pickup, pick up the liquor
Go on use your charm, come on gonna get her
Ladies, if you really wanna reign them suckers
Line up your lips, plump up your puckers
It's about the only way to get them motherfuckers
 


Who's living life like it's the belvedere
Swinging all night on the crystal chandelier
Bring that Velvet Elvis over here, come on

 

You're God's favorite child, boy, believe it
Try hard to remember the day
Sick as fuck and selling yay, diamonds and getting blazed
 

Dance at night back in Alabama
Christmas lights on my teal green trailer
American flags, blue, blue streamers
 

Ponytail and lollipops, dinerettes and soda pops
New blue bathing suit, ruched tops and Cadillacs
Blue lake car to dunks, hopscotch, shit talk
Alabama hardknocks, motel dress locks

 

Baby, if you loved me
You would call me your bunny
Tell me I'm just a baby, honey
Beat me and tell me
That no one will love me
Better than you do

 

My baby has an eye for pretty things, pretty things
He thinks that little girls are butterflies and cuts their wings
Sicko, psycho, sicko, but he's my beau
Puts them on a roller coaster, lures them in with Coca-Cola
 

Salvatore, you can def' be my baby boo
Be my mafiosi rock 'n' roll high
Back to Malibu in my trailer park for two
We're like Sid and Nancy loving the fight
 

You can be my Tony Montana and I can be your Pfeiffer fire
I can take you higher, I can get you hooked on love and desire
 

Remember that little old cowgirl
Waiting for you back in that Red River Valley
Waiting back in that Tallahassee
 

He's my drugstore cowboy, Italian alloy
Classical American
And I'm America's sweetheart, cute delicious sweet tart
Sippin' on my Diet Coke, singin' in the trailer park
 

I'm a wild child, sky high, lying on your floor
I know I had a lot but, babe, I wants a little more, dum dum
I want a little more, dum dum
In my white mink pink, cigarettes from the store
We're making robberies from Tijuana to the shore, dum dum
'Juana to the shore, dum dum
I belong to a bygone era like the Bugsy Malone
Of the deep Sahara 'cause I'm on the scene
Yeah, I'm on the scene
I’m a bad jazz singer giving you the finger
No matter what you linger 'cause you like me even when I'm mean
I'm the queen
 


Cigarettes and Robitussin
Will I ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now



 

Black eyes, short dress, let's break it down
You shoot and I pose, Polaroid frown
I'll do what you like
I won't make a sound
 


Look at you smoking in them neon lights
Under the thunder, yo, you like so nice
Made me wonder how you spend them nights
Me, I spend them looking for men I like
Like you, like you, like you

 

I had a man, he was sweet as pie
I met him as I walked right by him
He said, Baby, you so fine that when you walk
Even the stoplights stop to talk about you






 

You're the state's number one and everybody knows it
You smile all the time, 'cause how can you not show it?
When even you know that you're so to die for, to die for
What do I need to get high for?


 

If you wanna get that scholarship
Yale's not a problem, let's solve it
 

I'm the sweetest girl in town
So why are you so mean?
When you gonna ditch that stupid bitch you got
It's me you should be seeing



 

Babe, you can see that I'm danger
Glamorous but I'm deranged, yeah
Teetering off of the stage, yeah

 

You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say it back atcha
 

It's the voodoo Mississippi south
Sixty-nine million stars
Birds are flying out of my mouth
Spirits creeping in my yard
Hold my head, it's tilting back
Something dancing me around
Putting crystals on my neck
Lifting my feet off the ground, the ground
 

In the name of higher consciousness
I let the best man I knew go
'Cause it's nice to love and be loved
But it's better to know all you can know
I said it's nice to love and be loved
But I'd rather know what God knows




 
I said, he loves my heart-shaped sunglasses
He loves the heart shape my ass is
 

Wake up each night at the same time
Pull up the blind and look outside
And in the orange light, the fog is rising
This is life, this tonight, peace in the quiet
 

We could get high in Miami, ooh
Dance the night away
People never die in Miami, ooh
That's what they all say
 

Baby, put on heart-shaped sunglasses
'Cause we're gonna take a ride
I'm not gonna listen to what the past says
I been waiting up all night
Take another drag, turn me to ashes
Ready for another lie
Says he's gonna teach me just what fast is
Say it's gonna be all right





 
Again none of this is Rilke or Rimbaud, but taken together I think they're quite remarkable for what they are: pop lyrics. I personally don't think any of the lines in "Honeymoon" reach the level of playfulness or cleverness exhibited in the lyrics I've highlighted here, but that doesn't mean Lana's not an unusually creative wordsmith. And that's the rub, isn't it? No matter how good of a writer you are, every single time you sit down at a blank page, you have to start from scratch—and you have to really, really try. And my intuition tells me (and who can blame her) she doesn't try quite as hard as she used to.

"We both know that it's not fashionable to love me" That self-awareness   

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201/lana-del-rey-ultraviolence-20141201
 
http://time.com/3613540/top-10-best-albums/
 
 

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201/lana-del-rey-ultraviolence-20141201
 
http://time.com/3613540/top-10-best-albums/
 
 

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201/lana-del-rey-ultraviolence-20141201
 
http://time.com/3613540/top-10-best-albums/
 
 

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/50-best-albums-of-2014-20141201/lana-del-rey-ultraviolence-20141201
 
http://time.com/3613540/top-10-best-albums/
 
 

Does anyone else hear "Hit and Run" in the verses?