Hold On

Somewhere between "yesterday" and "never" there's a song that smells of night air and someone else's perfume on a wrist. Everything around seems to breathe with a rhythm - simple, sticky, summery. No one remembers about work, hours, or plans - just the headlights on the asphalt and the feeling that the world is truly young today, even if it's billions of years old. And let everything return to its usual noise later - love, it seems, knows how to live on repeat. Even when the music fades, that very heat lingers inside for a long time, warming you from within better than any sun.