Cartier

Like a dawn that caught you off guard - the table is littered with bottles, your phone is full of unread messages, and your head is still filled with thoughts of the girl who left without a word. The words sound harsh, almost comical in their directness, but behind them you can hear not anger, but hurt, which is not so easy to brush off.

The chorus is about the eternal Mexican drama of nights with powder, Barbie, and tequila, where morning comes before you have time to forget. It's not about heroism, but about how stupid and truly painful it is to continue to hold in your heart someone who didn't even leave a goodbye kiss. The music smells of a hangover, the light of a lamp above the kitchen, and something that won't let go for a long time.