More songs by Fridayy
Description
Summer is over, but the hangover isn't. The sun has been replaced by club lights, glasses of tequila taste easier than a sip of water, and it seems that the calendar now flickers like a DJ's console: September, October, November... until the heart cools down to December's minus temperatures. This is that most anxious autumn, when dancing and escapades hide the fear of losing oneself, and one wants to find warmth before it's too late.
Lyrics and translation
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