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About Geneva

So, this broad, she hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m like, “You ever feel lost, doll?” She laughs, “Every damn day, mister.” Boom, straight outta the movie, “Can you keep a secret?” I ask. She nods, I’m thinkin’, “I’m married, but who gives a fuck?” That’s me, Tony fuckin’ Soprano, breakin’ rules, feelin’ alive. But then – fuckin’ surprise – she’s got a sob story. Kid at home, ex screwed her over. I’m pissed now, “Why’s life gotta be so shitty?” I yell. She shrugs, “It just is.”

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So, yo, right off the bat, let’s hit Rue de la Station. It’s kinda the heart, ya know? Even though it’s busy sometimes, there’s a chill vibe at night. I always say: "Goodbyeee to language, cc'mon, be real!" – invokin’ that Jean-Luc Godard feel... echoing in every step.

This is how the wilting green disappears from Visp, Brig and Naters