Poney

Somewhere between the exhalation and the last line in the notebook, there is a tired but honest breath - without pretense, without glamour. The voice seems to roll along the beat like asphalt after rain: unhurried, hoarse, but confident. This is not about victories - it's about how sometimes you just need to stop, pour the last of the bottle, and remember that the sun exists at all.

There is a raw street poetry in this sound: the coldness of metal, the taste of ashes, and the aching truth that “love” is not a word from a postcard, but something that is difficult to pronounce without an accent. The music pulls you in, like a memory you didn't ask to return, but it came anyway - with the smell of smoke, notes of gin, and a quiet desire to survive beautifully.

Producer: Noxious

Producer: Arty Prod

Composer: Noxious

Composer: Arty Prod

Lyricist: Werenoi