More songs by Mora
Description
Where rain beats against the glass and the air smells of leather and electricity, a game without rules begins. Not about feelings, not about the future - about the greed of the moment when the mind steps aside, giving way to the body, which has its own arguments. Everything is hot, sticky, without promises - like a night dance where movements speak louder than words.
And it seems clear: no one owes anyone anything. But between the joke about ‘once a week’ and the breath in the dark, something slips in that wasn't planned - a spark that makes even the most blatant sin a little human.
Lyrics and translation
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