Sometimes a song comes a long that defies any logic as to why it might exist. On paper it might look good, yes, but somewhere along in the process of actually recording the thing it seems as if someone would say 'hey, this is quite shit isn't it.' Alas, the quality-control workers have failed us yet again, and we are left with this epic mess. It's essentially a slumming Mr. Hudson duetting with an adolescent sex pest while a series of ill-advised wardrobe choices parade before the cameras.
And that's 3 and a half minutes of your life you can never get back.
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