She Is My Drug

Love here sounds like a thunderstorm after a stifling day: first a light current on the skin, then a lashing rain that cannot be stopped. Each “rain” is like a drop on the temple, each line is a blow to the heart, which either sticks in sweet codeine bliss or bursts out from pain and anguish.

In this flow, there is tenderness, dependence, and the question of whether anyone can withstand such a storm of emotions. The music swings between euphoria and breakdown, like wet asphalt, which makes you want to run and fall face down in the rain at the same time.