Feel Better by Penelope Scott Lyrics Meaning – Unraveling the Emotional Mosaic of Modern Love
Lyrics
No one’s ever gonna love me like that again
I don’t wanna get over you
I wanna sit with you in bed
I don’t wanna feel better
I’d give anything to miss you again
I don’t wanna get over it
I wanna get under it instead
A book sits on top of clean and messy blankets
On a bed that fucking creaks at night when I get in it late
And late at night I’m chugging gatorade
And someone’s breaking up
And I crack up because I know I’ll never know just what to say
I’m a communist a terrorist a MPDG thot
Or I’m a sad girl in a dorm room
Living out the shitty christian plot of
Twilight or the Bible or the Lover by Duras
Or I’m just really fucking selfish and really fucking lost
But someone loved me
Someone fucking loved me
Someone fucking loved me and I fucking loved them too
God dammit I was worth something
I fucking learned something
I had my cake
I ate it
It ate me too
And god no
I don’t wanna feel better
I don’t wanna feel better
I’d give anything to miss you again
I don’t wanna get over it
I wanna rip it to shreds
We kept our liquor in a suitcase underneath my bed
And we drank it to go out or to stay in or to feel sad
But in a hot way in
A way I’ll fucking never have again
The sun has begun to set
I’m a socialist Marxist libertarian slut
I am an awkward teenaged virgin
And I sorta kinda laugh a lot in bed
But other times I cry or don’t make noise at all
I’d give my life to have a room that feels that small
Someone loved me
Someone fucking loved me
Someone fucking loved me I loved them too
God dammit I was worth something
I fucking earned something
I had a right to die a right to live and a right to choose too
And god no
Of course I don’t wanna feel better
Can you fucking imagine
No one’s ever gonna love me like that again
I don’t wanna get over it
I wanna rip the stars to shreds
I don’t wanna feel better
I mean of course it hurt
Of course it fucking hurt
It hurt like nothing in the world sometimes
And I was super scared
And we were all a train wreck but also somehow making it
I think I might’ve died there twice
And I would do it all again
I’m a nihilist a soldier an OCD machine
Or I’m a healthy baby girl who traded
Sunshine for disease
But when my head hit my cheap pillow
I could tell I had a heart
And I wanna tear this fascist milky way apart
Because someone loved me
Someone fucking loved me
On my filthy life I loved someone I barely knew
God dammit I was worth something
I fucking learned something
And it felt better in my mouth than fresh warm food
I guess I loved you
I guess I really loved you
On my filthy life I love someone I barely knew
And now you’re over there
And I’m way over here
What am I gonna do
Penelope Scott’s ‘Feel Better’ is an introspective anthem, voyaging through the manifold corridors of modern love, loss, and identity. The lyrical narrative is invasive in its honesty, intuitive in its emotional intelligence, standing not just as a piece of music but as a shard of pure human experience, echoed in shapeshifting chords.
In a generation where the digital and the immediate eclipse long-cherished and nurtured connections, Scott’s unfiltered voice is an anchor back to the raw, flawed, and tangible world that often hurts but always matters. Below the surface, ‘Feel Better’ is a philosophical exploration delicately woven with personal anecdotes and acute sociopolitical awareness.
The Paradoxical Plea: Craving the Pain that Confirms Passion
Diving into the depths of ‘Feel Better,’ one cannot overlook the poignant paradox in Scott’s adamant refusal to heal. She openly rebels against the conventional urge to move past sorrow, holding onto the heartache as a testament to a love lost. This defiance stands out as a bold statement on the authenticity of her feelings; the pain is both proof and anchor, signifying something that was undeniably real.
Through the repetition of ‘I don’t wanna feel better,’ the lyrics transform disdain for recovery into an almost romantic yearning for the visceral feelings that accompany a deep connection. The weightiness of this desire summons listeners into a shared space of vulnerability, where the sting of loss is a shared currency.
The Haunting Echoes of Empty Spaces
Penelope Scott artfully uses domestic imagery—the creaking bed, the suitcase of liquor—to paint a vivid picture of personal history imbued in the mundane. These backdrops serve as silent witnesses to past intimacies, turning impersonal items into icons of a shared existence with another. This stark visual storytelling imbues the song with a haunting quality, each item a ghostly reminder of connection and the void it leaves behind.
There is intimacy in the ordinary as portrayed by the narrative, allowing for a universal resonance amongst those who have found, and importantly, made a home within another person. The empty bed is every empty bed, and the creaks are the shared language of the heartsick.
The Clash of Identities and Intimate Politics
Scott doesn’t shy away from intertwining her personal narrative with broader socio-political threads. Her self-identification with buzzy political labels serves to highlight the flux of self-identity in an era defined by tags and tick-boxes. By weaving these into the song, the artist juxtaposes the political with the deeply personal, suggesting a collision between the perception of identity and the individual’s raw, emotional landscape.
This fascinating blend of public labels and personal introspection depicts an individual’s quest for self within the tumultuous sea of societal expectations and roles. It signifies a struggle to maintain individual affection and connection amidst the white noise of external labels.
Anthem of the Broken-Hearted: Memorable Lines with Universal Appeal
Penelope Scott frames universally resonant moments in lines loaded with emotive power, as when she pens ‘Someone loved me / Someone fucking loved me / I loved them too.’ It’s unapologetically raw and relatable, crystallizing the essence of having and losing love. These lines cut to the core, serving as the musical climax for many, a hand reaching out to the listener’s own experiences of love’s fierce grip and painful release.
This raw confessional quality is a siren call for any who have bared their hearts, only to bear the scars of withdrawal. It is as much a personal musing as it is a shared anthem, as audiences see their own reflections in the throes of intense emotion that Penelope Scott brings forth.
Deciphering the Hidden Meaning: Beyond Love and Loss
At its core, ‘Feel Better’ is more than a forlorn love song. It is a critical examination of one’s place in a fragmented world. Penelope Scott’s use of contemporary cultural references, from ‘Twilight’ to the nuanced literature of Marguerite Duras, serves to anchor personal heartbreak in a landscape of modern narratives that often trivialize genuine emotion.
The song’s hidden stratum calls into question the nature of authenticity in a pre-packaged society. It’s an exploration of existential dread and personal significance, challenging the listener to consider the intrinsic value of love and experience beyond societal validation. Through these lyrics, Scott posits that perhaps nothing makes us feel more alive than the intricate dance with love, the dance that often leaves us longing, not for solace, but for the raw reminder that we have truly felt.
