Listening to the songs of yesterday,
I laugh at memories of impromptu dance routines,
pretend music videos and friends to sing the chorus with.
But the next song starts with a few bars of synth,
and different memories emerge from the fog.
Dancing in the kitchen, boxing with oven gloves,
sitting under the apple tree, going to the Witch’s House,
naps in the afternoon and Sherlock Holmes,
listening to this song in the thick air of the Spanish night.
“This is the best dance anthem ever recorded.”
That’s why we played it at his funeral.