LIAR?

It feels as if someone accidentally pressed the play button for voice thoughts. Everything is a little sticky, a little yellow, a little “last summer.” A half-decayed “I'm sorry,” the scent of a purple rose, and a strange mixture of loneliness and blessing - as if mimosa suddenly decided to become a cactus. This track is not a story, but an internal dialogue with an echo that won't fade away. A sticky “la-la-la,” like a worn-out mantra in your head when you're too tired to even talk about “love.” Because it's already clear: I feel without you.