(Intro)
(Sound of rain against the window, vinyl crackle, soft piano starts)
Yeah… Don Pastor. Lipa.
Reporting from the UK, watching the clouds roll over the hills.
While you’re stuck back in Kraków, living a life that ain't yours.
Funny how a man changes for a leash.
Listen.
(Verse 1)
You stood by my side the day I said "I do",
But now you’re just a ghost, I don’t recognize you.
I held your back when the ground began to shake,
I was the breath for every step you had to take.
I told you: "Stay true, don't let your colors fade",
But living in fear is a debt that’s never paid.
A child feels the truth, even when the world is still,
But you chose the cage, man, instead of the will.
(Verse 2)
My new chapter, England, different walls, different light,
While your signal just died in the middle of the night.
I ain't mad at your love, we all choose our way,
But brotherhood ain't a game you can just stop to play.
When it was heavy, I was the first one on the plane,
Flying back to Kraków just to ease your pain.
You said: "Nobody knows me like Lipa knows me, man",
Now you’re just a puppet with a ring on your hand.
(Verse 3)
I don’t need to be close, I don’t need to be near,
But a real bond, brother, shouldn't just disappear.
You chose that "peace", that quiet life in the city,
Trading your honor for a little bit of pity.
I read you like a book, every chapter, every line,
But I closed the cover when you stopped being mine.
Don Pastor on the porch, Syrah in the glass,
Cheers to Kraków… watching the brotherhood pass.
(Chorus)
I’m standing chill, no drama, no stress,
Loyalty’s silent, I must confess.
Persian Syrah, Cotswolds, rain in my eyes,
Greetings to Kraków… where the brotherhood dies.
(Outro)
(Slow, lazy saxophone solo, the beat fades out)
Yeah.
The last page is turned.
No hard feelings, just facts.
Don Pastor.
Lipa.
From the village… to the ghost of a friend.
(Sound of a glass being set down)
