"There's a still in the street outside your window" --Brandon Flowers
The first time I hear this song, we are sitting in a booth in a place called Joe Mama's eating brunch. And I say, "I love this song. What is this song?" And I love it more when you listen so closely and try to hear the lyrics for me. I write what we can make out on an Equal packet and put it in the zipper pocket of my purse, and when we get home--okay a day after we get home--I remember and say, "oh, man, that song!"
I search the lyrics. A really awful, tacky rap song comes up first. I clarify my search with the one word you were able to hear that I hadn't heard in that noisy diner on a Pittsburgh corner on a Sunday morning, and it is the magic one that leads me to the song which I buy immediately. And then listen to obsessively for the next hour. You grin, and I say, "Sometimes, I am..." You finish, "Obsessive Compulsive?" and you laugh. I laugh too, but I'm nodding and saying, "I really am..."
I make no apology. I rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, kiss and repeat.
I love this song. Obsessively and without end-- for now.
You, I love for always.