December 24th, nine p.m.   Eastern Standard Time from here on in   I shoot without a script   See if anything comes of it      Instead of my old shit   First shot Roger   Tuning the Fender guitar   He hasn't played in a year      This won't tune   So we hear   He's just coming back   From half a year of withdrawal      Are you talking to me?   Not at all   Are you ready? Hold that focus steady   Tell the folks at home what you're doing Roger?      I'm writing one great song   The phone rings   Saved   We screen   Zoom in on the answering machine