Bolide allemand

The city roars like a race car at the starting line, and amid this din, the engine revs up, leaving behind the past and those who couldn't keep up. Here, it's all about glamour and danger, that rare mixture of confidence and fatigue, when “everything is fine now” sounds not like joy, but like a statement of fact: yes, I survived, yes, I rose.

Every line reeks of gasoline and self-respect, gained not from motivational quotes, but from nights where reflexes, not words, decide everything. The chrome shines, the beats pound, and inside there is only a short “everything is under control,” which is a lie, but a beautiful one. In this race, they are not looking for meaning - they are looking for the sound that will remind them louder than anything else that there is no turning back.