The song 'Fortnight' by Taylor Swift and Post Malone tells a story about strong feelings, complicated relationships, and secret wishes. It talks about love, betrayal, and wanting someone who doesn't feel the same. The word 'fortnight' shows short-lived happiness and guilty pleasures, leading to sadness. It shows how messy relationships can be and the results of hiding emotions. “I was supposed to be sent away / But they forgot to come and get me,” she kickstarts the song in the first verse with lines suggesting an admission to a hospital for people with mental illnesses. She goes in the verse admitting her lover is the reason why she is like this. In the chorus, she sings about their time in love and reflects on how he has now settled with someone else. “I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary / And I love you, it’s ruining my life,” on the second verse she details her struggles to forget about him and the negative effects of her failure. “Thought of callin’ ya, but you won’t pick up / ‘Nother fortnight lost in America,” Post Malone sings in the outro.
Send us a signal, give us a sign
The needle's on empty, but she swore everything would be fine
But it's on fire, and there's bees in the walls
They're buzzing so loud that I swear I miss every one of my calls
So do it with smoke, do it with light
But whatever you do, just make sure that it's strong and it's bright
Cause it feels like the end
But I now and then overreact
They've been saying that since way back when the moon turned to blood and made rivers all over your back now
This whole world conviction and a lifetime of wonder
The creeping suspicion that it's all soon going under
Bought all my sandals from that landslide in the small town
The wax from the candle's on the strap of her costume ballgown
It comes through the windows just like radiation, it penetrates like a saber
And according to all my calculations, the sickness will descend in even gradations, defying the preacher's evaluations
Now is always better than later
Go get the door, send them away
This is not a good time and it doesn't look like a good day
Cause the house has the odds, they're a hundred to one
That you will decay in your tracks and you'll blind as you stare at the sun
Just making it's rounds and increasing the dread
That each morning you leave slightly more of yourself in the bed
But the radio's on and it's turning my heart into gold
And the guilt I once had is gone, it's replaced by a fear dying before I get old now
The scent of the decay will stay with you all of your life
The way that the blood still, decades later, stains your pen knife
It's 10:59 according to the clock at the station
Oh, what a perfect time to begin making accusations
It's easy to forget, but it's tough to lose, like the color of your complexion
Blends in so nicely with purples and blues and most of the time it's disguised as a bruise
It sleeps under the skin as the good life accrues
If breathing's the error, it's the simplest correction
Oh, cause of breathing's the error, it's the simplest correction
The needle's on empty, but she swore everything would be fine
But it's on fire, and there's bees in the walls
They're buzzing so loud that I swear I miss every one of my calls
So do it with smoke, do it with light
But whatever you do, just make sure that it's strong and it's bright
Cause it feels like the end
But I now and then overreact
They've been saying that since way back when the moon turned to blood and made rivers all over your back now
This whole world conviction and a lifetime of wonder
The creeping suspicion that it's all soon going under
Bought all my sandals from that landslide in the small town
The wax from the candle's on the strap of her costume ballgown
It comes through the windows just like radiation, it penetrates like a saber
And according to all my calculations, the sickness will descend in even gradations, defying the preacher's evaluations
Now is always better than later
Go get the door, send them away
This is not a good time and it doesn't look like a good day
Cause the house has the odds, they're a hundred to one
That you will decay in your tracks and you'll blind as you stare at the sun
Just making it's rounds and increasing the dread
That each morning you leave slightly more of yourself in the bed
But the radio's on and it's turning my heart into gold
And the guilt I once had is gone, it's replaced by a fear dying before I get old now
The scent of the decay will stay with you all of your life
The way that the blood still, decades later, stains your pen knife
It's 10:59 according to the clock at the station
Oh, what a perfect time to begin making accusations
It's easy to forget, but it's tough to lose, like the color of your complexion
Blends in so nicely with purples and blues and most of the time it's disguised as a bruise
It sleeps under the skin as the good life accrues
If breathing's the error, it's the simplest correction
Oh, cause of breathing's the error, it's the simplest correction
Lyrics submitted by smileforthecamera
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