More songs by Isaia Huron
Description
The glossy ritual of getting ready collapses faster than the cap on a bottle of wine. What's the point of makeup if it's going to smear across the white sheets in a minute anyway? The atmosphere is like a B&B room after a storm: the cleaning fee is already hanging in the air, but who cares when there is passion and a glass of wine. The slight irony is that lace, stockings, all this beauty, are just decorations. The main show begins when only skin, breath, and a little more noise than the rules of residence allow remain on stage.
Lyrics and translation
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