Up - with Rag'n'Bone Man

Every line sounds like a prayer uttered through clenched teeth. The world here is grey and noisy, steeped in guilt, loss and fatigue - but somewhere among these ruins, pride still smoulders, like the last cigarette in the cold. Inside, there is a heaviness that cannot be escaped, but cannot be drowned either: just stand, clench your fists and exhale upwards, where perhaps someone will hear you.

There is no pathos here, only scorched honesty. When the pain no longer stings, but simply lives under the skin, like a scar that has stopped itching. Everything has collapsed, but the voice remains steady, as if the person has already gone through hell and is now watching the flames without blinking. And in this calm hopelessness there is strength - because there is nowhere lower to fall, which means the only way is up.