This concrete underworld has some of the best acoustics you have ever known. You begin singing sewer songs of your own writing. Long lonely ballads that cascade in thick waves and echo back on you with a moist re-verb swell. You are a solitary singing monk with the powerful voice the world above shall never hear. You have thirty songs already and a ever growing set list. Songs of gritty dark power. The only person to ever hear your songs is a homeless man who went deep into the sewers to try to escape the cruel ever chatting voices in his head. He heard the distant fuzzed up echo of your sewer songs and it changed his life. He is not a bum anymore. Now he is a cab driver transporting faceless people to spots above ground and drinking slow and stead from a metal coffee mug filled with java and gin. Life is better for him and his eyes have this spirit filled glow now.