I think “Gods & Monsters” by Lana Del Rey is a song that perfectly describes what it feels like to live life in survival mode.

One thing about Lana is that she knows how to poetically and lyrically describe some of the darkest, gloomiest, most soul-crushing emotions ever in a way that connects with millions of people.

She wasn’t always a success story. During her rise to the top, things were challenging for her. She struggled with substance abuse and addiction at a young age. She lived in a New Jersey trailer park while building her career outside of mainstream society.

She tried to achieve success in the music industry under her real name, Lizzy Grant, but it didn’t fully work out.

She experienced toxic and abusive relationships, many of which inspired some of her most heartbreaking lyrics.

But the song I need to give attention to right now is “Gods & Monsters,” because it truly dives into the feeling of trying to claw your way out of survival mode.

I posted another feature breaking down my thoughts on Lana‘s song “Ride.” Feel free to check that out if you’d like. I discussed the way the song dives into the sugar baby/sugar daddy lifestyle, an inner desperation to achieve your dreams, and the mental war of existential dread. “Ride” deeply connects with the concept of being stuck in survival mode, similar to “Gods & Monsters.”

I’ve also posted about her song, “A&W,” and the way it dives into rape culture, victim-blaming, and the objectification of women. I posted a video breaking down her song “Freak,” and the fact that it goes so much deeper than just the description of a hot and heavy hookup session, which is probably what most listeners think of when they hear that song on a surface level.

Similar to what you might think of when listening to “Gods & Monsters” on a surface level. But there’s so much more depth to it. So, these are my thoughts.

At the beginning of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “In the land of Gods & Monsters, I was an angel living in the garden of evil. Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed. Shining like a fiery beacon…”

These lyrics describe exactly how it feels to be stuck in survival mode. It describes a young woman in a world surrounded by other people who are operating on every level of poverty, wealth, weakness, power, and everything in between. She describes herself as an angel living in the garden of evil. I envision a young woman who once saw herself as an angel who maintained a sense of innocence before she was exposed to the reality of existing in this depraved world. The young woman is screwed up, scared, doing “anything that she needed.”

In other words, she’s sacrificing her morals, turning her back on her ethics, and doing things she isn’t proud of in order to survive. Sometimes when you’re deep in survival mode, your morals and ethics are forced out the window. But the young woman in the song is also described as a fiery beacon. Fiery beacons were historically used to warn travelers of oncoming danger. They were used to send messages from across long distances. In this song, the young woman sees herself as a warning sign, acknowledging that she knows she’s going down a dark path, yet she’s barreling forward anyway.

In the pre-chorus of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “You got that medicine I need. Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly. Put your hands on my waist, do it softly. Me and God, we don’t get along, so now I sing…”

These lyrics remind me of a young woman who’s numbing her pain with sex and substances, distracting herself from the darkness, pain, and depression of her existentialism. She’s singing about a powerful man who offers her medicine in the form of fame, possibly because he’s promised her exposure, clout, and recognition in the entertainment industry. He’s offering her medicine in the form of liquor, which allows her to forget her stresses of the world as she gets drunker and more intoxicated.

He’s offering her medicine in the form of physical connection, which tends to feel good to people who’ve experienced long stretches of loneliness, heartbreak, or rejection. She describes the way he puts his hands on her waist, doing it slowly, as if they’re about to have sex. And lastly, she explains that she doesn’t get along with God anymore, which is a common sentiment from people who’ve been stuck in survival mode for a long time, feeling as though their prayers have been getting ignored for years on end.

In the chorus of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “No one’s gonna take my soul away. I’m living like Jim Morrison. Headed towards a fucked up holiday. Motel sprees, sprees and I’m singing, Fuck yeah, give it to me. This is Heaven, what I truly want. It’s innocence lost…”

This entire section sounds like a young woman who has deconstructed religion and no longer feels threatened by the concept of her soul burning in hell after she dies. I didn’t know who Jim Morrison was until I heard this song from Lana back in 2012, but I looked into him, and he was a musician who lived a quote-unquote “notoriously fast lifestyle.” It’s widely assumed he died from a heroin overdose, but his cause of death was never officially confirmed. A young woman living her life like him is a young woman who no longer gives a damn about anything.

She says she’s headed toward the fucked up holiday of a motel sprees, as she sings, “fuck yeah give it to me. This is heaven what I truly want.“ These lines remind me of a young woman, trading her body for money and resources as she navigates survival mode. She sings those vulgar words, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself that she’s okay with what she’s doing, even though she knows it’s all extremely destructive. And then she repeats, “innocence lost, innocence lost.“ The innocent young woman she was before is dead and gone by this point in the song because she’s already given the most intimate pieces of herself away in this cold and cruel world of poverty, glamour, blood, survival, pain, loneliness, gods, and monsters.

In verse two of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel looking to get fucked hard. Like a groupie incognito, posing as a real singer. Life imitates art…”

For people listening to this song without any context, this is probably the most shocking section of the entire song because what she says is just so wild and out of pocket. She literally describes herself as an angel looking to get fucked hard. She saw herself as an angel at one point. She saw herself as someone of purity and innocence at one point. But instead of worrying about the preservation of her purity and innocence, she began trading away pieces of herself for the pleasure of others. It sounds like words from a young woman looking for opportunities to rise from the ashes and elevate herself out of a dire situation, while knowing she has literally nothing else to possibly offer aside from her body, which also threatens the loss of her integrity.

I came to this conclusion because we already know that the land of gods and monsters is meant to be a representation of the cold and cruel world we all live in. It’s a mythical and biblical description of the evil and disgusting planet we’ve all been born onto, even though we didn’t give our consent to being born. I’m staunchly childfree by choice myself because of this exact realization. Lana goes on to sing, “Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer,” which gives the vibe that she maybe didn’t feel she was good enough to make it in the industry quite yet at the time, and she felt like a fraud. She was struggling with imposter syndrome. She was struggling with deep-rooted insecurities that she was nothing more than a groupie disguised as a singer.

This is extremely relatable for anyone who’s ever fought for a dream. I personally feel like a fraud with the worst imposter syndrome ever, every time I lead yoga classes or dance classes, even though I’m passionate about what I do and I’ve trained and practiced for years. Even though Lana was always an incredibly talented singer herself, she reveals in this song that she still struggled with self-doubt anyway. But then she ends verse 2 saying that life imitates art, which means she’s comfortable portraying herself as a real singer for now because she knows eventually her dream will actually manifest into her reality.

In the second pre-chorus of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “You got that medicine I need. Dope, shoot it up, straight to the heart, please. I don’t really wanna know what’s good for me. God’s dead, I said, “Baby, that’s alright with me…”

Just like in the first pre-chorus of the song, Lana talks about a man providing her with medicine to distract her from the darkness and depression of living in survival mode. First, he brings her fame, liquor, and love. This time, he brings her dope that can be shot straight into her heart to make her mind float away into a place of ecstasy as complete and total distraction and detachment from the reality of being stuck in the depths of survival mode.

She tells him, “I don’t really wanna know what’s good for me,” which is an extremely common statement from people who’ve surrendered to self-sabotage and people who have given up on following the rules or hoping for the best. That surrendered type of thought process forms inside people who’ve been hurt by just about everyone and disappointed a million times over. It’s a statement from someone who’s completely given up because they no longer see any hope for their future. She says, “God’s dead, and I said, baby, that’s all right with me.“

Which is a line that truly reminds me of how it feels to go through deconstruction from religion. When you make peace with the fact that there’s no one up in there in the clouds answering prayers, or looking down on you with love to offer divine intervention. This line reveals that she’s made peace with that when she says it’s all right with me.

In the bridge of “Gods & Monsters,” Lana sings, “When you talk, it’s like a movie. And you’re making me crazy. ‘Cause life imitates art. If I get a little prettier, can I be your baby? You tell me, Life isn’t that hard…”

It sounds like she’s describing a conversation with a man who frustrates her, but she knows she has to keep dealing with him anyway, because he’s offering her financial gain, resources, a possible leg up in the entertainment industry, or the possibility of escape from survival mode. She says he talks like a movie, and it’s making her crazy, almost like he’s incredibly pretentious, pompous, or misogynistic. But she sticks around and deals with it anyway because what other choice does she have? She asks him, if I get a little prettier, can I be your baby? A line that fits into the sugar bab/sugar daddy angle that young women who are pretty and desperate fall into when they are stuck in survival mode.

The line also touches on the toxic beauty standards young women are forced to navigate in our patriarchal society. Being pretty enough means you’re desirable enough. She questions if she’s pretty enough, whether or not he’ll want to take care of her, or want to be with her. She ends up saying, “You tell me life isn’t that hard“ which is the cherry on top of my initial thought that this man talking is extremely dismissive and probably very condescending. But for a young woman in survival mode, she knows she has to suck it up and deal with his terrible energy anyway, because being in survival mode forces her into that position.

Everything about “Gods & Monsters” by Lana Del Rey reminds me of the painful reality of being stuck in survival mode, feeling hopeless, abandoning your morals, and agreeing to do things you otherwise would’ve never done if you had the necessary resources. It sounds like a song of giving up and surrendering to the darkness of human existence. I do think it shares a lot in common with her song “Ride” when it comes to agreeing to sugar, baby sugar, daddy, relationships, living life on the open road, trading your sexuality for safety, protection, and resources, and beyond. “Shades of Cool” is another song by Lana that offers similar energy, with the music video showcasing Lana in a relationship with a much older man who is emotionally unavailable. “Gods & Monsters” also reminds me of her song “Is This Happiness,” which is a song full of Lana questioning if she’ll ever be happy in a toxic romantic relationship. It also reminds me of her song “Million Dollar Man,” which describes a relationship with a wealthy man who continually breaks her heart and hurts her emotionally. In Lana’s song “Yayo,” she sings, “Let me put on a show for you, daddy. Let me put on a show,” which reminds me of a young woman who feels the need to perform for love with a man who can provide certain things for her.

So many of Lana‘s most devastating songs draw clear parallels to Gods & Monsters.” But the ultimate message I pull from it is that it’s a song about navigating a life stuck in survival mode.