malibU

A song is like a sunbeam dancing on the floor on a Sunday: warm, light, and completely useless in terms of productivity. Everything happens suddenly and gently at the same time - a touch of sadness, a hint of madness, a couple of Spanish words for heartfelt authenticity, and suddenly “biromba biromba” is playing in your head as if it were the universal answer to “where have you been all day?” And even if half of the emotions are just dance, the other half is still in love.