To one, Nancy Duck Jefferson. We never get along anymore after sophmore year.Bits' that R on ma Mind:
-You gave my choir shirt to Andrew, but played it off as my fault.
-You avted like a bitch about a private trip I'm taking to Paris.
-You hold me back, so how will you ever be able to know what I can really accomplish.
-I know I'm unrealiable,
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Its all ridiculous, I don't really care anymore. Choirs not my thing.
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