The song that remembers itself

the song that sings itself – and you – to sleep sweet dreams

the song that sings itself to you when you least expect it to and then moves in with you and stays with you for days

the song that seems to know more about you than you do yourself

the song that knows when to stop, just before you want it to, always leaving you wanting more

the song that remembers times and places and people you’d forgotten you ever knew

the song (there are some) that you like at first, then love, then tire of, then hate, so much so that it has to be erased; years later, you hear it again with all the pangs of joy and despair you can summon, with the intensity of a first love

the song that you’d forgotten you knew, but which had never forgotten you and falls in with you, a long lost lover, older but thankfully no wiser

the song that you’ve never heard before, but that comes at you as if you’ve always known it, indispensable, a puzzle – how had you got this far without ever having this to keep you company?

the song you first heard happy, which seems to personify that happiness, but which collapses into itself when the happiness turns sour

the song of sorrow, the saddest song that somehow raises your spirits when everything seemed lost

the song that loves only you

shall we sing that song together?

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