Will caught a snatch of a song from his memory- "We'd up and fly if we had wings for flying/ can't you see the tears we're crying/ there just ain't no happiness for me... not with Nottingham."
His tenor tone was quite good, although the acoustics in the shed were terrible. The cinder block walls just sucked up the sound. "Oh... Malcolm," he sighed, having to pause to remember the guy's actual name, "You sound so lonely out there. All that violence for your spank-bank."