Peur de l'amour - Réécriture d'Another Love

Sometimes the heart speaks instead of the mouth - in trembling chords, as if apologizing for its own vulnerability. Love here doesn't shine with gloss and doesn't promise eternity. She's more like a lilac branch in cold water - beautiful, but slightly broken. The song sounds like a note found between the pages of an old diary: a little naive, but achingly real. They don't cry for someone, but for the feeling itself - for how scary it is to let warmth back in when there's still ice inside. And yet, somewhere within this fragility, a small "I believe" flickers. Quiet, stubborn, like a lilac sprout pushing thru February.