What I've Done

A hollow feeling of farewell, in which there is no blood, no loud drama, but there is the weight of past mistakes. It all sounds like an internal trial, where the accuser and the defender are one and the same person. Each line is like a line on a sheet of paper, crossing out the past and leaving only a clean slate for a new step.

The music carries that very mixture of pain and relief when you admit that yes, everything was wrong, but that is precisely what gives you the right to let go. Note by note, they turn into an act of purification: not just an admission of guilt, but an attempt to wash it away to the last drop. And in this harsh directness there is a strange consolation - as if even the most serious mistakes can become a starting point.