Music is such a wonderful marker for memory, tied to the images, the emotions, the little crystallized fragments of our lives. It’s better than any journal. When I hear this song I go hurtling back in time to fall in love. It was the day after Halloween, sitting in the back of a taxi on my way home from her place, back to my rooftop apartment in Taipei. Everything was grey and streaks of rain ran down the glass. He sang his shame and I smiled out the window. I didn’t know it yet, but that moment marked the start of something profound. In hindsight it was also very fitting.
“Oh, how the days will rain on you…”
B-Side: Don’t Pass on Me
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