lavender haze

Midnight. You come and pick me up, no headlights. Long drive. Could end in burning flames or paradise. Fade into view, oh, it's been a while since I have even heard from you, heard from you.

There is a time for silence. There is a time waiting your turn. But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say, you’ll know it. I don’t think you should wait. I think you should speak now

This album is a love letter to love itself- all the captivating, spellbinding, maddening devastating red, blue, gray, golden aspects of it (that’s why there are so many songs). In honor of fever dreams, bad boys,confessions of love on a drunken night out,Christmas lights still hanging in January, guitar string scars on my hands,false gods and blind faith,memories of jumping into an icy outdoor pool,creaks in floorboards and ultraviolet morning light,finally finding a friend,and opening the curtains to see the clearest, brightest daylight after the darkest night. We are what we love. This is Lover.

A tale that becomes folklore is one that is passed down and whispered around. Sometimes even sung about. The lines between fantasy and reality blur and the boundaries between truth and fiction become almost indiscernible. Speculation, over time, becomes fact. Myths, ghost stories, and fables. Fairytales and parables. Gossip and legend. Someone’s secrets written in the sky for all to behold.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?