"Bewitched, Bothered, And Bewildered" as sung by Ella Fitzgerald
Even though this is a lonely song, it makes me feel less lonely. It convinces me that in matters of erotic love, men and women are essentially the same. Not one of the experiences described or sensations evoked by these words and this utterly female voice does my deepest faction of atoms not understand: wide-eyed hangover, love-dosed insomnia, the addicting music of a lover's easy laughter, happiness, helplessness, sex, the loss of sex (listen to how she sings "very" as she describes how horizontally good he was), the loss of control, the loss of -- well, just the loss.
Oh, yeah: bewitchment, botheration, and bewilderment, too, lots of all that stuff, too. I'm also convinced, because of this song, that if I could tell Ella Fitzgerald my story, she'd get it instantly. Because we're the same, Ella and I, minus some insignificant chromosomal variation. It would be ideal if I could sing it to her, of course, but that would be like trying to write a sonnet for Shakespeare, or a melody for Mozart.
I don't know who the piano player is, but he is a flawlessly sensitive and accurate punctuator. He's a man, I'm assuming, but as we've already discussed, that doesn't matter at all. When you listen to him and her together, the world disappears.