Taylor Swift, the new poet laureate of pop, released her 11th album and with it a song that is so quintessentially Taylor.
Swift is an expert at Trojan horse songs: Lyrics that cut hidden beneath an innocuous, upbeat melody.
Enter “I Can Do it With a Broken Heart,” the 13th track of “The Tortured Poets Department.”
With fluttering synths and an electro-pop beat, it’s structured as one of Swift’s trademark glistening pop gems. But in the lyrics, Swift travels through the most potent psychological exploration of “the show must go on” since Smokey Robinson and The Miracles described “The Tears of a Clown” in 1967.
Swift unfurls the anguish she hid while remaining very visible the past year during her historic, world-spanning Eras Tour: “I’m a real tough kid,” Swift sings, defiant as ever. “They said baby, gotta fake it til you make it … and I did.”
But the song achieves liftoff with the dichotomy of Swift’s honeyed voice and her chant-singing, “I’m so depressed, I act like it’s my birthday every day.”
It’s a clever entry into the complexity of mental health, and Swift, she of limitless ambition, flips her sorrow into something constructive, a Superwoman unbowed by pesky things like misery.
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“I cry a lot but I am so productive,” she chirps, tongue firmly in cheek. “It’s an art … you know you’re good when you can do it with a broken heart.”
Read on for the full lyrics in what’s sure to be Swift’s next signature song.
I can read your mind
She’s having the time of her life
There in her glittering prime
The lights refract sequin stars
Off her silhouette every night
I can show you lies
‘Cause I’m a real tough kid
I can handle my shit
They said, “Babe you gotta fake it til you make it”
And I did
Lights, camera, bitch smile
Even when you want to die
He said he’d love me all his life
But that life was too short
Breaking down I hit the floor
All the pieces of me shattered
As the crowd was chanting, “MORE!”
I was grinning like I’m winning
I was hitting my marks
‘Cause I can do it with a broken heart
I’m so depressed I act like it’s my birthday
Every day
I’m so obsessed with him but he avoids me
Like the plague
I cry a lot but I am so productive
It’s an art
You know you’re good when you even can do it
With a broken heart
I can hold my breath
I’ve been doing it since he left
I keep finding his things in drawers
Crucial evidence I didn’t imagine the whole thing
I’m sure I can pass this test
Cause I’m a real tough kid
I can handle my shit
They said, “babe you gotta fake it til you make it”
And I did
Lights, camera, bitch smile
In stilettos for miles
He said he’d love me for all time
But that time was quite short
Breaking down I hit the floor
All the pieces of me shattered
As the crowd was chanting, “MORE!”
I was grinning like I’m winning
I was hitting my marks
‘cause I can do it with a broken heart
I’m so depressed I act like it’s my birthday
Every day
I’m so obsessed with him but he avoids me
Like the plague
I cry a lot but I am so productive
It’s an art
You know you’re good when you can even do it
With a broken heart
You know you’re good when you can even do it
With a broken heart
You know you’re good
And I’m good
‘Cause I’m miserable
And nobody even knows
Try and come for my job
