Much of Taylor Swift’s writing has been centered on the seemingly fleeting nature of love. Her songs often focus on moments of tension or transition—a sudden realization of true love, the conflicted feelings of a break-up, a frustrating fight. These moments are significant because they allow her to hope for—to see clearly, even—a future that is better, more real. In other words, the transitional challenge so often tied to love help remind her of who she is and where she wants to be. It seems clear, too, that Taylor Swift isn’t interested in a love that is fleeting or shallow; she deeply longs for someone who will stay.
But her writing is cyclical; the future she anticipates never seems to truly arrive, and so she returns, again and again, album after album, to these moments of longing. Although “Lover” delves into a variety of issues, the pressing reality of impermanence remains one of her primary concerns. We can see this especially in one of her first singles for the album: “The Archer.”
In this reading of “The Archer,” I will take Swift’s words seriously; I will assume that her words are true and consider the implications of the claims she is making. One of the reasons I will do this is to dispute two lies: 1) that Swift is a pop artist who has nothing significant to say, and 2) that lyrics in music aren’t meant to be taken seriously, that they aren’t meant to be engaged with. In this short reading, I hope we can rediscover, in a small way, the power and significance of words.
Through the electronic droning that underlies the song, “The Archer” begins with the words, “Combat, I’m ready for combat / I say I don’t want that, but what if I do? / Cruelty wins in the movies / I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you.” Again we find Swift in a moment of conflict, this time framed in the language of war. Anticipating the end of a relationship, she wonders how she should respond. Is it worth fighting for or should she just let it go? Even in this first stanza, Swift longs for her relationship to last but cannot help but think about the pain she could experience or cause through an attempt to hold on to it (through fighting, through combat).
The next stanza solidifies these themes through a reflection on her past: “Easy they come, easy they go / I jump from the train, I ride off alone / I never grew up, it’s getting so old / Help me hold on to you.” She says that in her past, people come quickly and leave quickly; nothing lasts. But this is not just something that has happened to her, it is something she has caused. She leaves quickly, jumps from the train, just as they do. Based on the previous stanza, it seems that one reason she leaves so quickly is because she fears hurting or being hurt by others. And she is so sick of this; she longs for something to last, for the ability to make something last. “Help me hold on to you” is repeated throughout the song as an indication of longing, but also as a call for the other person in the relationship to stay and help her stay.
The haunting chorus especially draws on these concepts of pain and impermanence: “I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey / Who could ever leave me darling? But who could stay?” In the first line, she knows that she has been targeted and deeply hurt by others, but she admits that she has also fired arrows intending to deeply hurt. Her past has been full of arrows: the combat of human relationships. The addition of “darling” at the end of her first question seems to indicate the naive perspective she has held to for so long—that friends and romantic interests will never leave her. The second question, then, is a beat-down, pessimistic response to the first—the result of being let down so many times. And yet, with a question instead of a statement, she leaves room for the hope that someone will stay. This is what she holds on to throughout the song.
The next stanza returns to similar themes as the first stanza. She seems to want to end her relationship, but fears the pain and regret that may come from whatever decision she makes. She wonders, “But what if I am alright, right, right, right here?” Her drawn-out question evokes a longing, once again, for something solid, something that will stay when everything is changing.
In the following stanza, we see more clearly Swift’s understanding of herself in this world of impermanence. She sings: “I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost / The room is on fire, invisible smoke / And all of my heroes die all alone / Help me hold on to you.” The internal and external tension of this moment is evident, but we also feel with Swift her own personal transitory nature. She paces like a “ghost” through the “invisible smoke;” it is almost like she might drift away at any moment with the others in her life. Like her circumstances and relationships, she feels anything but grounded.
After singing the chorus again (now “screaming” the question “who could stay?”), Swift moves into a bridge that only accentuates these feelings of personal impermanence. As the electronic droning and the beating of the drum gets louder, she seems to speak directly to the listener: “Cause they see right through me / They see right through me / Can you see right through me? / They see right through me / I see right through me / I see right through me.” From these lines, it seems like Swift feels that all her brokenness is clearly known by others and by herself, that she is completely exposed (see also the final stanza). But it also evokes, especially considering the images in the previous stanza, a sense of her own transience; if everyone sees right through her, then what is left?
“The Archer” concludes with “Who could stay?” repeated three times, and then an uncertain, “You could stay” repeated twice. Finally, Swift states again: “Combat, I’m ready for combat.”
In her excellent song, Swift deals seriously with the broken and finite nature of the human experience. As she feels so vividly the weight of impermanence all around her, she longs for someone who will stay. Permanence must come.