Some sap changed the radio station in my car to 96.3, the station that plays "the music of yesterday and today, light classics" when I wasn't looking, and I just never bothered to change it. Cruising (okay, crawling) on the wide roads of SSH on the way home, the intro to Michael Johnson's classic 80's ballad, Doors, started playing, and a lump formed unconsciously and unwillingly in my throat. It's sickeningly emo, but this is just one of those songs that make my eyes heavy enough to actually produce almost-tears and cause my lower lip to jut out to an unforced pout.
Yep, there's something about slow and sincere songs played on the piano that makes me wistful and longing. For nothing, really, the music just carries me to movie-like, cheesy sweet scenes.
DISCLAIMER: The lyrics don't mean anything at all to me. I am not pining away for anyone, nor am I this emo all the time. I swear on Snoopy's mother's grave.