Felt Good About You

Sometimes a feeling seems pure at first, almost sacred - like the first line in a new notebook. Everything is smooth, neat, promising. And then - a blot. Small at first, then spreading across the page. It seems like you can still read it, but the meaning is already different.

This is exactly what it's about: how a passion turns into a habit, a habit into a mistake, and then all that remains is a slight smile and a couple of bruises from one's own naivety. It all sounds cheerful, as if the person has already weathered the storm and is now watching its aftermath with coffee and sarcasm.

The melody seems to walk the fine line between “I still love” and “I don't want anymore.” With a hint of regret, but also with that special feeling of relief that only comes after the final “everything.”