Guess the Taylor Song by Emojis

[B] Today Was a Fairytale | Calendar + fairy + book says “fairytale day.” Swift wrote it for the film *Valentine’s Day*; the single topped Digital Songs and revived her old-school country sparkle in a movie cameo moment.

[A] Tell Me Why | Speech bubble to a person plus a question mark. A *Fearless* cut where perky fiddles mask a pretty withering boundary lesson. Tour crowds still yell the “And I let you” line like therapy.

[A] Mr. Perfectly Fine | Suited emoji and approving hand signals the smug “Mr.” Vault bop from *Red (Taylor’s Version)* that shot up iTunes overnight, proving 2008 shade can still sting in HD.

[B] Bye Bye Baby | Two waves and a baby equals the phrasing. The *Fearless (TV)* bonus track closes the door gently; production is airy enough that the last chorus feels like walking out into cool night.

[B] Sparks Fly | Glitter + takeoff reads “sparks fly.” A fan-favorite that lived as a live bootleg before *Speak Now* made it canon. The “drop everything now” hook was practically engineered for confetti cannons.

[A] Back to December | Back arrow + “2” + tree points to December. Swift’s rare apology single from *Speak Now*; orchestral strings and a winter palette turn a voicemail into a snow-quiet confession.

[B] Never Grow Up | No baby → adult. A lights-out lullaby on *Speak Now* that sneaks in apartment-floor details; parents cry, but producers admire how the melody stays small to keep the sentiment big.

[A] The Last Kiss | Down-trend + smooch hints at “last” + “kiss.” A six-minute slow burn from *Speak Now*; the delayed snare placements stretch time like the night you realize the door won’t reopen.

[C] Long Live | Hourglass + DNA coil = “long live.” *Speak Now*’s coronation speech for band and fans; she famously gifted her touring crew handwritten lyrics, turning a track into a keepsake.

[A] Sad Beautiful Tragic | Three moods stacked, then broken heart. A rail-rhythm lullaby on *Red* where time dilates between stations. The title’s punctuation-less pile mirrors its drifting, unfinished goodbyes.

[C] The Lucky One | Clover and “1” compact the phrase. On *Red* she flips fame from prize to cautionary tale, name-checking spotlights to show how disappearing can actually feel like the cleverest stunt.

[A] Girl at Home | Girl arrow house reads literally. *Red*’s deluxe cut later got an electro revamp on Taylor’s Version, but the ethics haven’t shifted: “I don’t want to…if you’re gonna cheat.”

[B] Message in a Bottle | Envelope to bottle equals the hook. *Red (TV)*’s vault track goes full candy-pop Max Martin; it feels like discovering a 2012 radio hit that somehow slipped between stations.

[A] Forever Winter | Infinity plus snowflake. A *Red (TV)* vault elegy about checking on a friend; brass slips in like warm breath on cold glass while the lyric quietly advocates for staying present.

[C] Out of the Woods | Runner returning from trees. *1989*’s panic-attack anthem repeats like thoughts do, then explodes open on that Polaroid-bright bridge. The video’s shredding vines make the metaphor literal.

[B] Welcome to New York | Wave + Statue of Liberty equals the greeting. *1989*’s opener maps late-night taxis and fresh-start euphoria; it’s less tourism, more thesis for a synth-pop reboot.

[A] Blank Space | White dot + planet = “blank” + “space.” A satire masquerading as a bop; the video’s art-damage wardrobe turned the “nice to meet you” smile into a memeable side-eye.

[C] Shake It Off | Dancer + “free” suggests shedding. *1989*’s lead single dismissed haters with marching-band horns. The clip’s ballerinas and twerkers underline the joke: try on identities, keep the laugh.

[C] Wildest Dreams | Big cats plus sleep. *1989* goes cinematic here, strings whooshing like a plane window. The re-record’s vocal tweaks softened the vintage-film filter without losing the swoon.

[B] Dancing With Our Hands Tied | Dancing, hands, yarn—there’s the knot. A *reputation* deep cut mixing tropical house pulse with claustrophobic lyrics; the acoustic tour version turned it into a confessional.

[C] Getaway Car | Runner + car = heist metaphor. *reputation* reframes the rebound as a crime scene; 80s-synth glitter, siren chords, and a bridge that skids across moral black ice.

[B] King of My Heart | Crown + heart. Late-album *reputation* track where the drums drop out then slam back like feelings becoming fact. The “is this the end” pre-chorus still surprises.

[B] New Year’s Day | Fireworks, then morning. After all the chrome, *reputation* ends with piano dust and sticky-note imagery. Swift played it live on TV with nothing but keys and breath.

[D] Cruel Summer | Angry face + sun lands here. A *Lover* favorite that finally became a No.1 years late—proof bridges can resurrect singles. The high note in the bridge? Stadium-tested shriek therapy.

[B] You Need to Calm Down | Pointing, soothing, down arrow. *Lover*’s neon clapback doubles as a Pride-parade soundtrack; the cameo-packed video ends with a peace-off that turned into a charity push.

[D] Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince | Statue + romance + crown = high-school political fable. *Lover* hides a protest chant in homecoming pageantry; score one for metaphors doing double duty.

[D] Paper Rings | Paper plus twin rings spells it. *Lover* pogo-pop vows that value cardboard over carats; the lyric “I like shiny things…” basically minted a thousand budget-cute wedding signs.

[C] The Last Great American Dynasty | Downturn + thumbs-up + American royals. A true-story romp about Rebekah Harkness and that Rhode Island house; Swift swaps “she” to “I” like a magic trick.

[D] Invisible String | Lab lens + thread hints at unseen fate. On *folklore* she color-codes memories and links coasts with literal cords, even sneaking in a yogurt-shop Easter egg for detectives.

[D] My Tears Ricochet | Tears that “bounce back.” *folklore*’s first written track sings like a funeral in a vaulted church; production leaves air so the betrayals echo longer than they should.

[A] No Body, No Crime | Crossed-out body + police car. HAIM collab turns Olive-Garden suburbia into a murder ballad; harmonicas sneak in like gossip through the blinds. Justice served with lemons.

[A] gold rush | Money + whoosh = rush for gold. *evermore* daydream where envy creeps in on the outro. Antonoff’s production stacks feather-light vocals so the jealousy feels weightless and mean.

[D] Coney Island | Ferris wheel plus island. A National duet on *evermore* that walks through shuttered boardwalks and missed anniversaries; drum machines barely breathe as the apology tries to.

[D] It’s Time to Go | Clock then walking away. A bonus track that frames exits as mercy; the verses reference contracts and friends, but the chorus universalizes the gut-check to leave.

[C] Vigilante **** | Sleuth + censored mess points to this. On *Midnights* she leans into noir: matte-black bass, whispered threats, and receipts printed in 12-point spite. Justice wears winged liner.

[D] Anti-Hero | No-sign over a superhero. *Midnights*’ biggest hit turned “It’s me, hi” into an unavoidable hook. The video plays with doppelgängers and intrusive thoughts like a sitcom directed by Jung.

[D] Dear Reader | Heart + book + reader. *Midnights (3am)* whispers self-help disclaimers over synth fog. The bridge’s “bend when you break” line became instant caption fuel for journaling Swifties.

[C] The Great War | Approval + crossed swords lands on “great” + “war.” A *Midnights (3am)* track where military metaphors meet relationship triage; the snare rolls mimic foxholes and white flags.