Lemon

The song smells like lemon, but not the kind in lemonade, but the kind that makes your tongue tingle and leaves a bitter taste on your fingers. Here, love and pain are inseparable: they are stored in memory like old letters with rain stains, like a smell that has not faded from the wardrobe. Each line is like walking down a wet street without an umbrella, when home seems infinitely far away, and the heart is still searching for light where there is none.

The music sounds like an admission that even the darkest memories can be precious if someone truly important was in them. This is not an attempt to forget - rather, it is a quiet request to leave the traces of the past alone in order to move on, but not to erase them. And amid the rain, loss, and bitterness of lemon, a light still flickers - the very one that once warmed you and seems unlikely to go out.