A repeated song may be routine work for the performer and an unexpected memory for a passerby.

The same three minutes can be the four hundredth repetition for one person and a complete surprise for another. A busker is doing a job, watching the weather and the takings; somebody walking past is suddenly ten years younger because of a song they have not heard since. Neither experience is more real, and the performer will never know the second one happened. Most of what you give other people arrives without any signal coming back.

If something moves you in public, say so before you walk on. Twenty seconds of telling someone what their routine work just did is the only way that information ever travels.