A slight movement of one hand, a tentative touch of the microphone stand with the other. A new insistence in the voice, even a bit of a challenge in the eyes. This man wanted to tell us something important, and if we had been lulled into a false inertia by the sense of inevitabilty in the first lonely verse, we began to sense that there was more...more to hear from him. "A little hope..." In previous performances he had sung these words in a soft, sweet plaintive voice that continued through "goes up in smoke", making us feel that he, too, had become resigned to having...nothing.
Clay Aiken was in complete command again. And we absolutely, undeniably, without a single sign of struggle, surrendered to the the commander. We realized that once again Clay had used his mastery at interpreting lyrics and melody to lead us to the exact place and along the very path he had designed all along.