He clears his throat a bit, drinks some of the water he asked for and glances, briefly around them at how close the other tables are.

"The ones I don't get are -" He licks his lips, stalls again, and then does try. His voice is low but that's hardly surprising considering his speaking voice, and it fits well with the bare bones of this particular melody when he offers, pitched soft between the two of them, "Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you; she tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah."