From the recording Sometimes in Dreams
Lifting his head slightly, he held a postcard from her in his hands, reading it silently. She watched him. She always did. She always would. Far closer than he could dream to know but separated by an invisible barrier, like one-way glass, that only she could see. She spoke to him now, the very words he read. And he thought he dreamt he could see, could even touch her.
“You’ve always intrigued me”, she said, speaking what was written on the postcard from memory, “from the first moment I set my eyes on you. I wrote that sentence,” she continued, “several… no… many many days ago when I thought I could sum up how I feel about you on a postcard. You are unlike anyone I have ever known”.
With wonderment and tears streaming down his face, he went to her, touching her gently, gratefully. If he was dreaming, he thought, he mustn’t break the precious spell. She leapt into his arms and his heart was whole again. They kissed and then, speaking the rest of the card, she grabbed a boombox from the shelf… this one.
“Let’s rock this show one last time,” she said, “for us!”.