You wonder. Maybe without knowing, you already feel it. Maybe our shapes, faces, hands may sound familiar to you. Maybe a cadence still echoes inside your head, long gone days for us.
Maybe there was a time when a melody described us, but now none of this matters at all since We Are Not Our Past. We Are Only Made of Music: goosebumps, emotions, a back to the beat. It does not matter who you were, only what you will become.