My daughter asks me about the beginnings, with San. She finds things, such as a playlist I had burned for him, long ago. With the directness of her age she asks the reasons for each song. How one chooses. How one risks it, to bare one’s tastes advanced and simple. How one begins love, knowing it may end.
I cannot remember it all; what is more, I am not certain I wish to, not now. It surprises me however that this song was not on the playlist. I have recorded it many times, on the piano and singing, merely singing. I did not master it on the guitar but intended to. And yet I always thought well, it might be improved. I will send it when I learn it on the guitar as it is meant to be performed.
So my daughter, I give you this one to inherit, if you wish. If I had married your father with a first dance, this would have been it.