“I’m on my feet/ I’m on the floor/ I’m good to go/ All I need is just to hear a song I know/ I want to always feel like part of this was mine/ I want to fall in love tonight.”

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It's here. Take it. You wait for life to begin. You wait, mind filled with half-truths of what you thought it should be like. Not this slow stretch of mundane moments for sure. I mean, they’re just pictures in a magazine, just frozen frames on a screen, but they resonate with a technicolour you can taste – such vivid promise of racing pulse, a shiver in your chest. You wait.

And then one night you’re pressed in the midst of this thrum, bodies strung together on the same single line of bass, waiting for the swoop and split-second stutter of pace change that will send you plunged into that something more. You’ve got someone tapping their fingers on your heart, crying out their truth so loud it sets the back of your throat on fire.

Or you’re running down unfamiliar streets, breathless because the summer dorm curfew closes in two minutes and the skin on your knees is stinging from where they hauled you up over that concrete parking lot siding. But you don’t care, hair damp from tumbling through the park sprinkler system, and as you round the corner you see the perfect frame lit up in harsh fluorescent glare. So you take the shot, brief moment of stillness in the midst of chaos, and only later in the lab (as the shadows slowly come to life under dull red glare), do you see the perfection of contrast and crisp lines.

Or you perch on a low couch in some bar an ocean away from home; ruby liquid in a curved glass muffling the busy hum as chandeliers and candlelight blur the world into shades of shadow. His voice is in your ear. His fingers tracing the contours of your collarbone. Armed with new red shoes and a laugh you don’t yet know the meaning to, you are everything you will become.

And you realize that this is it. This. Is. It. Whatever you’ve been waiting for; those moments of sheer pounding intensity? It can’t be more than this.

Every time these exuberant chords strike up, the way the verses segue joyfully into that heartskip bridge and then fall into that chorus, (Oh that chorus!) – such hope, such promise – well, they light it all in me again.