Imagine waking up to an empty house that still smells like the person you adore. In Nova Bad, Melim paints the bittersweet picture of a love-infused morning after: the clock strikes seven, the lover leaves, and every corner of the room starts whispering their absence. The singer calls this feeling their “new bad” — a fresh kind of heartache that’s equal parts sunshine and sorrow. Bright morning light, the curve of a smile, even the taste left behind become vivid souvenirs that refuse to fade.
Beneath the breezy melody lies a tug-of-war between joy and longing. The memories are so sweet they feel tattooed on the lips, making the soul “blossom”, yet they also ache because the love might not be mutual. The narrator dreams of being the one their crush can’t forget, turning an ordinary sunrise into a cinematic moment of hope, nostalgia and irresistible melancholy.