PaleTO

Everything spins as if it were a non-stop party: smoke, noise, lights, and that same chorus that repeats itself until you're in a trance - about “four grams,” about bodies spinning around, about life being like a game of ping-pong. It seems like pure hooliganism, confidence, and movement - but somewhere beneath it all, you can hear a dull echo: dark states, limbo pretending to be fun. In every verse, there is both swagger and fatigue from it.

Between the lines, things that are usually left unsaid break through: lost money, a broken heart, boredom from victories, and the desire to be off stage for just a minute, just to be close. Everything sounds loud, bright, deliberately dirty - but that's the truth. A world where glitter sticks to the skin no worse than melancholy.