CHCIAŁBYM ZAKOCHAĆ SIĘ

The words here are uneven, like footsteps after a sleepless night. Each verse is filled with the weary smoke of attempts to fix one's life and still find something bright, even if it's at the bottom of a glass. The music is wet, like the street after rain: it crunches a little underfoot, it's a little cold, but somewhere beneath this greyness there is a strange, almost childish desire to take another risk, to fall in love again. Not pathos, but a weary admission: yes, there have been many mistakes, but the heart still beats in time, asking for a chance at tenderness.