Hailing from Massachusetts, sad-rap artist Snøw unveils Disconnected, a harrowing exploration of love’s darkest crevices.

This poignant offering resonates like a raw nerve, its sombre piano melody intertwining with Snøw’s emotive vocals, urgency dripping from every syllable.

The lyrics? A scalpel dissecting the cadaver of a toxic relationship.

Snøw divulges, “This song analyses how poisonous bonds contort personas, rendering lovers unrecognizable.”

Indeed, Disconnected mirrors that disorienting unraveling. Snøw laments, “You hurt me more than you should’ve/Now it’s gone to your head,” his voice a trembling confession.

The refrain’s plea, “I just need to disconnect,” echoes like a desperate mantra amidst tangled sheets.

Yet, Snøw doesn’t wallow; he excavates harsh truths: “Yeah you broke my heart/Way before you broke the news.”

With serpentine imagery slithering through visceral bars, he confronts deception’s sting: “Too many serpents in the grass/I don’t recognise you.”

This stark self-awareness severs ties, granting clarity—the relationship expired long before its death rattle.

Disconnected is a searing portrait, yes, but one rendered with uncommon nuance. Snøw avoids trite romanticism, opting for rawboned vulnerability.

His pain feels palpable and immediate, no polished veneer to obscure the ugly realities of love’s underbelly.

An unflinching mirror into intimacy’s abyss, daring us to peer into the darkness alongside him.