Simple, sweet, short, succulent, savory, sensibly sensible lo-fi pop music. There's something more to this track than is readily out in the open. It's like when the FBI tracks a phone call, but they can't locate the perp because the line wasn't held for long enough.
It's that mosquito you killed whose buzz still lingers. It's Natalie Portman's childhood, or Verne Troyer's height. It's a loving embrace, but from a fish. It's your mothers birthday card. It's beginning to not make sense.
No, I mean this review is beginning to not make any sense.
Well done on the track, Julien!