Déj? Vu
Déjà vu
Glass cafe faces
Fade into the wash
Of brick-dust-yellow afternoon
Déjà vu
Slow lines on pages
Shape words like echoes
Of a ball bounced in an empty street
Déjà vu
Sun on hair dancing
To breeze-borne snatches
Of a lost music box melody
Writer/s: Bruce Cockburn
