I want you… I want you so ba-a-a-a-ad… I want yo-o-o-ou… I want you so ba-a-a-ad, it’s drivin’ me mad, it’s drivin’ me mad…
Miss Cherry Magic, or to her friends, just Cherry-- flicked the switch on the old FM radio to off. Why did it seem that everywhere she turned, music seemed to follow her and narrate her stupid life? It got worse every time
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Thanks though!
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