Description
Love sometimes fades quietly - without scandals, you just realize at some point that you're sleeping in his t-shirt, even tho you haven't been together for a long time. The bar is buzzing, friends are nearby, but inside, it still feels tight - like the temperature is almost forty degrees, but not from illness, but from memories. A Cuba Libre is becoming not a drink, but a small excuse not to be silent. Mercury isn't supposed to be retrograde, but everything is going haywire. And all that remains is a light irony: we parted ways in English, but we kiss French - at least in our minds.
Lyrics and translation
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