ICU

Love here doesn't bloom slowly under a lamppost - it roars in like an engine, overloaded with feelings and caffeine. My heart is pounding like a tachometer in the red zone, and common sense seems to have flown out the open window somewhere during the first chorus. Everything is overheated, sparking, and the doctors have already given up: the diagnosis is a chronic exacerbation of passion, treatment is impossible. Each drum beat is like a defibrillator, each vocal "shock" is an impulse through your nerves that won't let you sit still. This song has no brakes, only gravel, heat, and a blinding flash – the very moment when two worlds hurtle towards each other. And even though the warning signal sounds, you only want to turn off your mind, not the music.