A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground
With no one around to tweet it
While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love
And insurmountable grief

Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong, and my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m settin’ off, but not without my muse

The Lakes – Taylor Swift