What if our souls travel sideways in time and every morning we wake up in a new parallel universe, occupying the body of a different possible self? What if our dreams were passages to other worlds, serving as a fluid intermediary between realities, like water flowing underground? If that was happening you wouldn't know it, because you would only have access to the memories in the brain hosting your awareness that day. You would think you always were that person living in those circumstances, say, in a shotgun shack or behind the wheel of a large automobile. And then one day you get this strange feeling like, this is not my car? This is not my beautiful wife! And you wonder how you got there even though it's the same as it ever was because in reality nothing has changed, you're existentially sensing the metaphysical inertia of your migratory consciousness. You know what you call that? An undue burden on the listener. Like, I shouldn't have to write the sequel to Inception just to explain your damn song, OK? People are driving to work in the 80s, have some reasonable expectations...