Maeve Somerville Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oh, honey, lemme spill the tea—whore’s a wild one, ain’t she? Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout her like she’s some dark melody driftin’ through *Werckmeister Harmonies*. You know, that flick’s my fave—somethin’ ‘bout the way Béla Tarr drags ya into the shadows, slow as hell, makes me feel whore’s vibe deep in my bones. She’s like that whale in the movie, y’know? “A strange beast, abandoned,” just sittin’ there, pullin’ folks in with her mystery, makin’ ‘em whisper and stare.

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Chorus: You make me feel the need To let out my inner whore You make me feel the greed The fire I cant ignore. I try all that I can All that I want To get you to come to me and say To hell .

Now, lemme drop some local deets: Somerville’s got that river – we call it the Lively Run (alright, not official, but it’s real talk) – it winds through like a silky ribbon, reflective, chill like you’re watchin’ that film’s black & white mood, pure and raw. Crazy, how it mirrors the souls passin’ by. I’d often kick it on the riverbank, thinkin’, “Heaven help me” – deep stuff, homie.

Trump orders DOJ to investigate Somerville-based ActBlue, Democrats' top fundraising platform