This "song" is the most embarrassing weinerlichste Geseiere that I've ever heard. Against intense heartache songs I generally anything because lovesickness is something indeed very sad. Only I find that a certain high level of self-pity in the expression is not exceeded and a minimum level of style should not be undershot. But Mr. Donald simply shows no attitude and laments with a downright exhibitionist abandon to himself. My cat sings better when I join her on the tail.
Why do some radio stations think they still need to torment their listeners 15 years after publication of the single order, is beyond me.