I'm never gonna let you go
I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever…
What kind of crap music is that, Dean wonders to himself. But he still doesn't change the station. The crap music is oddly drawing and he wants to hear what the next line will be.
Gonna try and make up for the times I hurt you so…
Oh, God, somebody shoot him now. Not so much because the song is crap – though it is – but because suddenly, he has the urge to call Jo. And tell her something grossly similar to what he just heard. He turns the music off and lets down the window. The wind did little good – he can still hear the song ringing in his head.
I'm never gonna let you go, Jo.
I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever, Jo.
Gonna try and make up for the times I hurt you so, Jo.
Dean now thinks he is going insane because since when did he associate any kind of music with women, since when did "women" become "woman", and since when did "woman" become "Jo". But most of all, because since when did he listen to this crap music!