I'm looking like this today. Diana Ross 1979.

Its beating, beating in my head. 
It aches, aches in my body.

I woke up in a dark room, the boy next to me looked like he lived in 1979. So pretty. I stumbled over his guitar when I was trying to get dressed. We talked all night about music, Ian and 1979. He asked if we could see each other again. I knew I shouldn't. I will just destroy him like I destroyed the others. I said that we could have coffee later today. Stupid stupid girl. I'm leaving tomorrow. London is calling.