ICH VERACHTE

The noise of the city becomes a mannerism - a hoarse voice, as if warmed by morning smoke and a sleep-deprived street lamp. Here, bragging walks the streets in a leather jacket, and every word is like a cheque for withdrawal: expensive, risky, almost official.

Inside, there is a contrast: protruding success and quiet fatigue, like patent leather shoes on wet asphalt. The rhythm makes the heart play along, and the lyrics whisper that even when all the lights are on, there is always a shadow that knows all the lines.

A slight smile on the lips - not at someone, but at life itself: loud statements, blurred frames and attempts to appear impenetrable. Something warm happens in this - as if a small light bulb had been pulled out of rough granite and left to burn, because light is still needed.