Description
The damp walls, which no longer hold their colour, and balconies that are only washed by rain. The evening is like a lifeline, promising a small sip of freedom after a day filled with silence. Every cigarette becomes a pause, every drop of water wants to wash away the anxiety, but it clings tighter. The clothes in the wardrobe still hold their embrace, but without warmth, like a museum of things that once breathed.
The track sounds like the inner whisper of someone trying to escape their own skin - slightly hoarse, slightly gentle, slightly insane. It's not hysteria or drama, but a quiet night mixed with rain, cigarettes and memories that you can't escape, even if you leave yourself.
Lyrics and translation
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