Description
A gloomy disco somewhere between sleep and cyberpunk: money, goths, zombies, and a dark prince with a broken heart as a gift. It seems to be all about wealth and success, but it tastes more like a cocktail of melancholy, self-irony, and club smoke.
Love here is short-lived, like a neon sign - it lights up, flashes, and burns out. But a promise remains: never to be poor again, nor happy. And there is some truth in this strange formula: sometimes it is better to burn in the sun and rhyme nonsense than to pretend to be normal.
Lyrics and translation
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