More songs by Plant
Description
The city roars and buzzes, but inside it is empty, with sounds echoing around. There are no stars here anymore, only shop windows and the shadows of passers-by, resembling animals. Life creaks like an old door, and the heart resembles a crumpled ticket that has lost its departure date. Everything around seems artificial: help, friendship, even euphoria - like a call from a call centre that no one answers.
And yet there is something almost touching about this confession - this honest fatigue, stripped bare to the bone. The unbearable nature of existence is transformed into a rhythm where harsh words sound like a prayer, and cynicism turns out to be only a mask for fragility. Music is like a late cigarette on the balcony: bitter, but alive.
Lyrics and translation
There are no lyrics added for this song yet.