猫

Like the evening before a storm - trembling fingers, an awkward smile, and a voice that suddenly decides to say everything that has been building up for too long. The world is sinking in the sunset fire, and somewhere deep inside, a simple thought echoes: letting go doesn't mean stopping loving. Just let the sun burn out first. It's a quiet story about those who were left alone on a noisy street. When the heart argues with the body, when sadness becomes almost cosy, and past intimacy turns into a cat - independent, soft, and elusive. And if he suddenly returns, even for a minute, we can breathe again without strain. The song smells of the last summer, the warmth of palms, and the foolish belief that everything can be repainted in your own colours. Even emptiness.