(ecco)

It's as if someone found an old cassette tape with a voice that no longer sounds alive. Everything is foggy, on the verge of being forgotten: fragments of images, phrases, like fingerprints on glass. Nothing screams, but everything hurts.

This track is like a feeling that no longer fits into the present, but has not yet let go. It's like... ‘there was something between us,’ only sung softly, on the verge of sleep. And the question loops: will we be together sometime? - as if knowing that, most likely, we won't.