PARADISE

The bitterness here is not shouted out loud - it quietly flows through the beat, as if along the rim of a glass where the last drop of former faith in people has settled. Everything has already been tried: attempts to understand, forgive, believe again - and everything ended the same way. Now only music knows how to draw this ‘too much’ out, without drama or pathos.

The voice conveys weary acceptance, almost calmness, like that of a person who has finally stopped trying to explain. Let the flowers burn, let the image drown in smoke - what difference does it make if the ashes are still more beautiful than lies. All that remains is to sing, pour drinks, and watch as the evening dissolves old grudges in the velvety air. Maybe something like healing will grow out of this - at least half of it.