1. I’m on a beach in Montego Bay and it’s sometime past midnight. I excuse myself and walk 15 feet away to finish a letter to my ex in my Notes app. It plays as I walk back to the party.
It's only me who wants to
Wrap around your dreams
2. I’m stopped at a redlight on Lyons Ave with my windows down. The chorus blares out of a car in front of me, a Subaru Forester with New Hampshire plates.
Like a heartbeat drives you mad
3. I’m on a rooftop in Bushwick for C’s birthday and two people tell me I’m so brave for coming to this party alone. It plays in the bar downstairs.
I keep the visions to myself
4. I’m in bed trying to sleep in. A single line floats into my room from a car passing by.
Women, they will come and they will go–
5. I’m in a house in Seattle and it’s my first time meeting my partner’s hometown friends. Z and E choose to sing it for karaoke, and in the final verse, J comes in to ask what they want to order for dinner. Z and E pretend to be more upset about being interrupted than they are about it being almost over, and sing it again, from the beginning.
When the rain washes you clean you’ll know–
6. I’m with my dad and we’re sitting on a bench along the river and it’s his first time taking edibles. We’re about to see The Conjuring 2, but I’m not sure we’ll even make it up the steps. A group of 10 drunk men in Hawaiian shirts harass a queer couple and I try to stand up to do something, anything, but I’m too high to stand. We sit in silence as it plays from a boat passing by.
7. I’m on the A train running late. I look over the shoulder of the person next to me and see it playing on their phone.
Now here you go again
8. I’m at a house party in a house next door to a house I used to live in. J and I stand in a corner and point at titles on a bookshelf. It plays when we get to The Mushroom At the End of the World. I tell him about this list and ask if he thinks it counts that I saw someone else listen to it on my way here, even though, technically, I didn’t hear it myself. He thinks it counts.
Now here I go again
9. I’m sitting on floor cushions at a vegan cafe, sipping on rose tea, after a craniosacral therapy appointment where I cried. Of course it’s playing.
Listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
10. I takes me out to dinner–her treat, thanks to Earnest, her generous Dutch client. It plays with dessert.
Players only love you when they’re playing
11. I’m with A and we’re drinking beers at Temkin’s. We’ve both just finished meeting our respective exes for coffee, and though they’ve never met, we weigh the pros and cons of inviting them here just to see what happens. It plays as we decide against inviting them because unfortunately, we know exactly what will happen.
In the stillness of remembering what you had
12. I’m at a New American restaurant with my parents and we’re here to celebrate but they’re out of vegetarian entrees. It plays as we eat three orders of fried jicama.
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
13. It’s my birthday and I’ve just paid a dollar to play it on the jukebox. When it’s over, my friend cues Spooky, by Dusty Springfield. 30 seconds into Spooky, the jukebox makes a clicking noise, and plays Dreams from the top. We laugh at my deal–two songs for a dollar–then cue a Le Tigre song. 30 seconds in, another click, and it’s back to Dreams. This happens again with a Sam Cooke song. I want to stay and see how long this goes on for but I sense that my friends are ready to leave and won’t say so because it’s my birthday. We leave after the next one.
You'll know
You'll know
You will know
Oh, you'll know
You will know
You will know