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Lyrics
I saw her on the street,
the silence skipped a beat.
A face I’d seen before,
behind some dreamlike door.
Her eyes — a spark, a sign,
a ghost that once was mine.
How can it be so true —
I always, always knew.
I reached, but time stood still,
the air forgot my will.
When stillness broke apart,
she vanished with my heart.
Now shadows crowd the place,
a million hidden face.
Was it a dream, divine?
A message in the line?
I wander, night to night,
no peace, no end in sight.
Will I be calm anew —
or wait my life for you?
The idea#
Recognition like a skipped heartbeat on a street. A face from behind a “dreamlike door,” eyes as spark and sign, a ghost that “once was mine.” “How can it be so true— / I always, always knew.” Reaching fails; time freezes; she vanishes with the heart. Trance’s driving uplift can make the vanishing feel mythic—encounter as brief sacrament.
Afterward, shadows crowd the place; a million hidden faces; the question of dream versus message “in the line.” Night-to-night wandering, no peace: wait a life, or learn calm without her. I hear déjà vu eroticized and theologized at once—the soul’s claim that some strangers are not strangers. Whether she was real hardly matters; the knowing remains, and that is enough to unmake ordinary streets.
