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There’s a delicate ache running through Lana Del Rey’s “Bluebird” – not the kind that screams for attention, but the kind that simmers quietly beneath the surface, whispering of entrapment, endurance, and the hope that some part of us can still escape.
In this song, Del Rey crafts a soft yet soul-piercing meditation on the struggle to break free from emotional captivity, using the titular bluebird as a poignant metaphor for both a loved one and a sliver of herself.
The opening lines
“Little bird, bluebird / Fly away for both of us / For you have wings and I’ve no means to fly”
— immediately frame the bluebird as a projection of inner strength, the part of her that still has the ability to flee when she cannot. It’s not just about letting someone else go, it’s about placing the last ounce of hope in the idea that escape is possible, even if only through another. The bluebird is at once someone she cares for and a fragile piece of herself still unbroken by the weight of her reality.
This duality continues in the line
“Find some strength inside my hand / Anything to let you sing goodbye.”
Here, she offers up her own fading power, her own trembling stability, to help the bluebird soar. It’s a moment of quiet desperation, a recognition that goodbye, even when it hurts, is sometimes the only true act of love or survival.
But freedom isn’t just a matter of flight, it’s also about breaking from the past. In the pre-chorus, Lana sings,
“For your thoughts are small, they can’t keep you from leavin’ / As the wake of my past crashes in.”
There’s a heavy presence pulling at her, perhaps a toxic relationship, or perhaps her own history and patterns that keep her tethered to pain. While one door slams shut, she notes that the window is still open, a metaphor for the lingering opportunity to leave, even if it’s just barely.
The chorus becomes a mantra, soft and persistent:
“Find a way to fly / Just shoot for the sun ‘til I can finally run.”
It’s an invocation — a plea for someone, or something, to rise above the wreckage, to reach for warmth and distance. And yet, there’s an implied delay in her own freedom. She can’t run yet. Not until something else happens. Not until the bird flies.
As the second verse arrives, the stakes begin to rise. The horses are coming — symbols of chaos, danger, or reckoning — and she’s barely held them at bay.
“Your crash landing’s over, but the evening is hummin’” she warns, suggesting that although a storm has passed, the atmosphere still hums with tension. The threat hasn’t left. She’s still in it. Still watching. Still trying not to fall apart.
And then, the plea again:
“Find a way to fly.”
It comes back not just as a chorus, but as a kind of emotional tether, something to hold onto in the middle of collapse.
By the outro, there’s no resolution, no dramatic escape. Just a quiet hum.
“Shoot for the sun ‘til I can finally run.”
The bluebird may leave. Or it may not. But the hope remains intact. That maybe, if even a fragment of her can take flight, the rest of her might one day follow.
In the end, “Bluebird” is less a song about freedom itself and more about the longing for it: the way we look to others, or even to parts of ourselves, and beg them to do what we can’t.
To fly, to leave, to sing goodbye. It’s Lana Del Rey at her most vulnerable: tender, introspective, and quietly resilient. And in that whisper of a chorus, she gives voice to a feeling so many know too well: the ache of watching the window stay open, and wondering if you’ll ever find your own wings.
This track follows “Henry, Come On” which we praised as “Americana breakup ballad steeped in grace, clarity, and quiet strength.“
The song “Bluebird” is available on Youtube.
[Verse]
Little bird, bluebird
Fly away for both of us
For you have wings and I’ve no means to fly
Little bird, bluebird
Find some strength inside my hand
Anything to let you sing goodbye
[Pre-Chorus]
For your thoughts are small, they can’t keep you from leavin’
As the wake of my past crashes in
I hear the door slam, but the window’s wide open
We both shouldn’t be dealing with him
[Chorus]
Find a way to fly
Find a way to fly
Just shoot for the sun ’til I can finally run
Find a way to fly
[Instrumental Break]
[Pre-Chorus]
I’ve kept him at bay, but the horses are comin’
They’re racin’ their way ’round the bend
Your crash landing’s over, but the evening is hummin’
Don’t make me say it again
[Chorus]
Find a way to fly
Find a way to fly
Just shoot for the sun ’til I can finally run
Find a way to fly
[Outro]
Mm
Mm
Just shoot for the sun ’til I can finally run
Find a way to fly
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