Description
The city smokes like a cigarette in the morning breeze – slightly bitter, but exhilarating. Everything here is saturated with heat: the streets, the glances, the skin under the neon lights. No rules, just rhythm and a faint smell of madness in the air. Every movement seems to defy propriety - dirty, bright, openly alive.
It's nice to get lost in this chaos: let the world wait while the body speaks instead of words. Dance, flash, heat - and somewhere between the beat and the breath, something is born that can be called freedom... or at least its daring parody.
Lyrics and translation
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