I have only tried karaoke one time in my life. On a late night in New York in the middle of the week, I walked into a karaoke bar with some friends... we walked in on one guy, all alone, sitting and singing at the bar... he seemed to be a regular, probably spent many nights there... crooning his favorite songs... he seemed a little unnerved that we were interrupting his mojo... we all sat down together with him, trading off songs... Each time it came around to me, I chose high falsetto selections... The Bee Gees... The Stylistics... I was starting to have fun... after my third turn, the lone stranger leaned onto the bar and looked down at me and yelled, "Look, if you're not going to take it seriously, you shouldn't be singing at all!" We were silent... and incredulous and in awe... and at the same time, rightly impressed at how serious he was taking his art.

This is my favorite song on the album. So sparse and naked and dreamy and spooky and raw. Patrick Warren played his impossible swelling pump organ... amazing... Eric Heywood pedaled his magnificent steel.

I hate it when I hear someone describe a song or piece of music as "lush" or "cinematic"... but I think this is... and luscious... and sweet and tender and ripe...