I was picking up a suit from the dry cleaners, which is standard for me, Thursday, 12.30. I've got a pretty solid routine these days. I don't know, it just works for me. Anyway, I was leaving, I was getting in my car, and I went to adjust the rear view mirror. But in its reflection, just for a second, I saw a figure. Started to trigger, memories flooding back, stopped me in my track. Who was that? It was my lover. A lover, from a past life. I feel like I saw a ghost. So unexpected. Almost transfixed. Well, somewhere between a lover and a friend. It was different back then. Surreal. Poetic, but unset. Like a bizarre chiptune with a confusing end. But I shut it down, closed it off. The sounds and smells, I made myself forget. A cheap solution to blackout regret. But it was real. It just feels like a past life. From a past life. From a past life. I don't remember anyone like you. In a long time. I don't remember anyone like you. So I go about my day as normal. But I can't seem to pass it off as just a random event. It consumes me. I thought I was moving on, but I guess I was just switching off. And now I see my life as the banal slug it instantly became. And I don't know if I can go on the same. But I don't wanna dig up old bones. I mean, I don't even know if she has the same phone number. Who knows? Maybe she does. From a past life. I guess there's no harm in trying. From a past life. I don't remember anyone like you. In a long time. In a long time. I try to say it, but I never get it right. From a past life. From a past life. You know the schedule, but you're always on the road. From a past life. I know it's late, but you're getting me wrong. From a past life. Hello?