[🎵 Old Words, New Songs] Love, you're sneaking into my toast again, leaving crumbs of promises that are worth nothin'. I swore I wouldn't fall and you called again, asking for sweet nothings I won't give you. You said, "it's not you, it's me," but another fella popped up in your story. My heart has already declared itself on strike, it says, "No guarantee, I quit your cheek." I loved you more than Sunday's game, more than going for drinks with my mates. Yeah, what we had was passion, the kind that lasts as long as a reggaeton song. The night saw you dancing to the rhythm of forgetting, I saw your WhatsApp story and felt prohibited. My love, what cruel irony, you offering love and I giving up on it. Love, night, keep going, heart what a great mix for another letdown. Yeah, life goes on but I'm without you, singing your dramas and loves without me. Love, I wish you well, I want to follow you old words trying to revive. New songs, old reasons you, the same ending with other men. Time heals everything, you said with conviction, but my Spotify doesn't have that option. And every playlist reminds me of your voice, even the algorithm fell in love with both of us. So I toast to you and to me, to this cliché that refuses to die. If love recycles itself, how ironic tomorrow the same lyric but with a different melody. 🎶
