The Silvertone has been joined by a second stranger, tall and lean, carrying an old Dreadnought. They are singing thirds in clear, sweet baritone.tenor combinations, sliding alng the runs and chords in a quiet corner, evoking nods, and smiles of knowing from the other tables and nooks here and there in the tavern...

"Show me the country where the bombs had to fall,
Show me the ruins of the buildings once so tall,
And I'll show you, young [one], with so many reasons why,
That there but for fortune go you and I, ... ."

Now and again the door swings open admitting a gust of damp evening air, still warm, and another dazed, tearstained soul wanders in, accepts a free drink and a hug from a stranger. Each finds himself or herself a seat, and one by one, each finds some song coming to the surface of an aching heart, and sings it in the spirit of the tavern, in the warm moist air of the river night, in the deep center of a city which is still weeping.