When he finally speaks, he's on the floor, too - a deeper, hunching darkness in the shadows, occasionally striped by the flickering TV light. DR. QUINN Your bleeding has stopped. CLARICE How did - (she stops herself) It's nothing. A scratch. DR. QUINN Why don't you ask me about ...
baritone, tenor or soprano. The pop voice fends its way scoreless, feeling, and in this instance crawling it’s way amongst discordant and broken sound. A cover ofMack the Knifeis delivered in quavering falsetto the lyrics jumbled, semi-audible and full of laughter...