These songs sometimes find themselves playing in
public spaces. They stop you mid-page, mid-drink, or mid-bite and cause you to look up and
straight ahead, even if there is nothing there to look at it.
Inside you somewhere, a strip of a scab is peeled away only it's been there so long that there is no pain. Underneath, there's a little divit drawn into that spot and it's sensitive to the touch.
And all around you at least one other person is trying to finish his mouthful, his page or sip but can't until that moment of remembering, of touching that tender scar, passes.