Carolina

This is eerie like wind over a wetland at night: the echo of Where the Crawdads Sing, beautiful and lone. Haven't you had a loneliness so quiet it became scenery?

Taylor, near-folk hush, tells a "no one gets it, and I won't be got" stubbornness. You'll get chills — some songs speak for places that can't.

This is an interpretation based on publicly available material. Not official commentary.

Full lyrics are not reproduced here to respect copyright.