The merest of bagatelles, this — not even two minutes long and minor even at that length. But it’s touched with something — you can’t put your finger on it, but if you understand then you know it’s there…it’s something about the prettiness and aptness of its winsome strum n jangle, the gentle, unassuming lilt of the verse, the plaintive hopefulness of its delicate build, the perfectly conjured air of wistfulness…it all just fits. If a sigh were set to music, this is how it would sound.