and after it we release whatever it was we had taken in so much of, let go of the weight and pressure in our lungs:
I mean, sure, I love the rest of the song, too, but those first (and final) four bars stand apart. Of all the instantiations of that I-II7-ii7-V7-I pattern (A-Train and the Super Mario 2 theme spring to mind) it's not just nice to listen to, it's not just beautiful, it's pure. I'm getting a bit ridiculously over-laudatory and mystical here, I know, but I really do feel like every time I listen to it I'm suddenly connected with all the past moments I've heard it, and disconnected with everything else about the present --- Borges had the right idea in a footnote in Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius: "Today, one of the churches of Tlön Platonically maintains that a certain pain, a certain greenish tint of yellow, a certain temperature, a certain sound, are the only reality. All men, in the vertiginous moment of coitus, are the same man. All men who repeat a line from Shakespeare are William Shakespeare."