LIAR?

It feels as if someone accidentally pressed the play button on my thoughts. Everything is a little sticky, a little yellow, a little ‘last summer.’ A half-decayed ‘sorry,’ the scent of a purple rose, and a strange mixture of loneliness and blessing - as if a mimosa suddenly decided to become a cactus.

This track is not a story, but an internal dialogue with an echo that won't go away. A sticky ‘la-la-la,’ like a worn-out mantra in your head, when even talking about ‘love’ is too much effort. Because it's already clear: I feel without you.