In the prison cell lay Shawn W. Lynings. There is an empty room. Shawn glares at the prision bars which he can easily fit through, at the keys he could easily grab. He knew the way to get out. He could leave. But guilt has taken over. There is a faucet which was not closed correctly. It has been dripping for an hour, twenty minutes and three seconds. His voice is cracked but smooth, as if his mind has lost the words. He can't sing to save his life, but he always sang to her. "hiding from your brothers underneath the covers, come on hide your lovers underneath the covers." Singing until his voice dies out.