I was in the pub on a Sunday afternoon, drinking red wine. It had been a bad week. But I was with a great girlfriend, sheltering from the rain and cold, drinking through my hangover; that morning I had been to a second-hand bookshop and bought copies of 'A Room with a View' and 'Brideshead Revisited'.
Then this came on.
"You look really, really happy," the barman said as I sang along with every word.