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"Tra nebbia e foschia" (Between Fog and Mist) is a song that recounts the most fragile moment in a relationship: the moment when two people realize that silence, unspoken words, and the fear of showing vulnerability are slowly eroding their bond. The images of the Venetian lagoon—the bricola, the fog, the muffled sounds—become the emotional landscape of someone who no longer finds their bearings and is groping their way through a relationship that no longer has any fixed points.

The fog isn't threatening, it's a state of mind: everything is suspended, everything is confused, and even time seems to slow down. The absence of "bricole" indicates a lack of emotional references, the need for a clear gesture, a presence that helps navigate this indistinct zone.

Then comes the refrain: “I confess to you, it’s better to die / even the foam at the bottom of the sea lets itself be discovered.”

Here the image profoundly changes meaning. It's not about surrender, nor about an end: it's a gentle but inevitable rebuke. It's the recognition that a relationship dies when one stops letting one's fears, weaknesses, and desires surface. It's an invitation not to rebel against one's own nature: because even what is hidden, deep, and submerged—like the foam rising from the seabed—emerges sooner or later. And this should also happen in couples: feelings shouldn't be held back, they should be brought to light.

The refrain thus becomes a statement: letting a love end means letting a part of yourself die precisely because you didn't have the courage to bring out what mattered, what could have saved that bond.

Foam is the perfect metaphor: in nature nothing is truly hidden, and it should be the same between two people who love each other.