This is my favorite song.
He's almost ashamed when he realizes that she can hear him - because he wasn't aware of the fact that there was anyone else nearby, he didn't want to be heard. He rarely does, if he isn't on stage. It's foolish, and he knows it all too well, but, even after the years of singing, he feels inadequate in a way, as though he's never doing well enough, not quite doing the songs he likes so much justice. It's the accent, he often tells himself, but he's not certain that, were he to have a perfect English accent, he'd be any more satisfied.
It's her words that make him forget all the worries, and he can't help but smile - because he's always happy when he finds people who like the same songs he does. It's not a rare occurrence, not really, but even so, it's precious to him. He holds his hand out to her, a soft smile taking over his lips as he eyes her, curiously. "Join me, then?"