Kalt gemacht

The sound is cold, like glass covered with raindrops, but something warm and very stubborn breaks through it. The words resemble an inner monologue full of doubts, where mistakes pull you down and other people's voices become too loud. And yet, amid this fragile darkness, you can hear a stubborn “I'll keep writing” - as if it were the only thread holding back complete freezing.

The song is like a letter to yourself from the future: honest, a little harsh, but with the hope that you will catch up with the light after all. In each verse, there is a struggle between the feeling of “not enough” and a quiet promise that better times will surely come. And from this, there is so much recognizable pain and, at the same time, strange comfort: being imperfect is not a sentence, but a path.