All I wanted comes in colors
Vanish everyday
I'll keep these promises, these promises
Stranger things will come before you
Always out of the way
We keep these promises, these promises
Can you call it?
See it coming
Just enough to tell a story
'Bout a portrait of a young girl
Waiting for a new year
All you ever wanted
Is it getting away?
Visions of a feeling
The footsteps at bay
You were getting stronger
Memories again
Now you're open wider
It's better this way
All I wanted comes in colors
Vanish everyday
I'll keep these promises, these promises
Stranger things will come before you
Always out of the way
We keep these promises, these promises
Won't you write a letter
On the page
In your own way
Write it in a letter
On the page
It's your own way
You were getting wiser
It's better this way
Faces in the mirror
Memories again
Now look to a feeling
It's lighter than breath
All you ever wanted
Is it getting away?
Can you call it?
See it coming
Just enough to tell a story
'Bout a portrait of a young girl
Waiting for the ending of an era
Can you call it?
See it coming
Just enough to tell a story
'Bout a portrait of a young girl
Waiting for the new year
About This Song
"New Year" is a wistful, ethereal meditation on anticipation, memory, and the cyclical nature of hope and disappointment. The song captures the liminal space between past and future through the lens of a young woman waiting for renewal, with lyrics that blur the lines between promise-keeping and the inevitable fading of dreams ("All I wanted comes in colors / Vanish everyday"). Beach House's signature dreamy soundscape-built on Victoria Legrand's hypnotic vocals, Alex Scally's shimmering guitars, and lush synthesizers-creates an atmosphere that feels both nostalgic and forward-looking. The track exemplifies the duo's mastery of "dream pop," using reverb-drenched production and languid tempos to evoke the hazy emotional territory between melancholy and optimism. "New Year" stands as one of Beach House's most poignant explorations of how we project our desires onto temporal markers, revealing both the beauty and futility of seeking transformation through calendar changes.
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