More Dreamy / Lana Del Rey | Yes To Heaven But

In the velvet-blue twilight of a world that never wakes, the air tastes like jasmine tea and old cinema film. You are standing on a balcony made of salt and moonlight, watching the Pacific Ocean turn into a liquid opal.

He is standing by the fountain, his silhouette blurred at the edges like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. He doesn’t speak, but his hands smell like expensive tobacco and cedarwood. When you look at him, the sky streaks with soft violets and bruised pinks, the colors of a peach being pressed into silk. yes to heaven but more dreamy / lana del rey

You aren’t going to heaven; you’re simply drifting into the part of the dream where the music never fades out, and the red dress you’re wearing never loses its sway. In the velvet-blue twilight of a world that