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We are listening. I am lying on the floor, I have my head in the bass drum, because there is a pillow in it, and a pillow is a good place for a head. Carolyn is sitting on a chair nearby, her face pressed against a microphone, the microphone is pushing her top lip up on one side, so she has an Elvis sneer. It looks a bit odd, but I don't mention it, I guess she must like the way it feels, who am I to judge? We hear a word that we think might be out of tune, we look at each other, and know that we're going to have to sing this song AGAIN.
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