水平線

The morning on the horizon always seems soft, almost watercolour-like - even if everything inside is crumbling and falling apart into sharp pieces. The wind picks up these shards of hope and carries them away somewhere else, while someone whispers ‘beautiful’ as they look at someone else's pain as if it were a shiny shell. There is something unfair and at the same time very human about this.

The song sounds like a slow confession to the world: being kind does not mean being invincible. Here there is light, salt, other people's cries hidden behind applause, and your own shadow, which cannot be seen without the help of another. But in this transparent night and bright morning there is a strange truth - even the saddest melody eventually settles on the water, becomes light, and one day returns to remind you who you are.