More songs by Ewa
Description
All of this smells of night air and slightly overdone perfume. Somewhere, a bass is playing, a glass is in her hand, and in her head is the familiar scenario from ‘we shouldn't have met again, but.’ She pretends not to remember, he pretends not to be hurt, and neither of them is very convincing.
There is no melodrama here, only a weary attraction - the kind where the mind waves a white flag and gives in to the body. In every glance, there is a hint of defiance, a hint of regret, and just enough electricity to last until dawn. Everything is beautiful, a little toxic, and somehow still alive.
The music flows like an excuse, and the words sound like they come from a correspondence that no one was supposed to read.
Lyrics and translation
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