Wat me opvalt aan de teksten van hedendaagse liedjes is dat ze vrijwel allemaal vertrekken vanuit de eerste persoon. Zelfs de zogenaamde alternatieve muziek is enorm egocentrisch. De variant van de liedsmidkunst waarbij men observeert en portretteert, lijkt verloren gegaan terwijl de variant van de introspectie en uiting welig tiert.
32 jaar geleden verscheen deze popsong, in wat toen nog het lichtere genre was van de New Wave popmuziek. Als je niet beter wist, zou je toch echt denken dat iemand hier een kortverhaal schrijft. En toch is het maar een liefdesliedje:
When he saw her getting of the bus, it seemed to wipe away the years. Her face was older, just a little rough, but her eyes were still so clear. He drank his coffee and he hurried out, across, before she walked away. Then he approached her, like a little child, too scared for what he had to say.
“Hello, Louise, Remember me? Now should we part or stay a while, as if we were still lovers?”
She took a moment just to recognize the man she’d known so well before and, as he started to apologise, lose any bitterness she bore. She gently put her finger on his lips to let him know she understood, and, with her suitcase standing on the floor, embraced him like a lover would.
He told Louise: “You look so good. It’s just, you see, you make me feel as if we were still lovers.”
It’s not always true that time heals all wounds. There are wounds that you don’t wanna heal. The memories of something really good, something truly real, that you never found again. And though they talked for just a little time. Before she said she had to go. He saw the meeting as a tiny signt that told him all he had to know.
And, so, Louise waved from the bus, and as she left she gave that smile, as if they were still lovers.