La Tortura

Love, as always, didn't go according to plan: too much pride, too little bread, and too many words instead of action. Everything seems to be fair, mistakes are acknowledged, vows sound sincere, but fatigue in the voice is already stronger than passion. Music is like a dance between stubbornness and regret, where every step forward is followed by a backward sigh. In every chord, you feel that very "ay amor," when the mind has understood everything, but the heart is still arguing. A mix of pain, flamenco, and gentle sarcasm, like a conversation between exes who know each other's sore spots too well. And even though the farewell is loud, there's still a feeling that no one has truly left.