Joe Jukic:
Nelly, I gotta ask you straight—why do you keep sabotaging me? Every time I try to get close to someone, there’s one of your songs in the background, cutting me down. Is this a game to you? If you like me, then let me take you out on a date. Simple.
Nelly Furtado:
Joe, you think it’s sabotage, but my songs aren’t daggers pointed at you. They’re just me, my cage, my label, my truth.
Joe Jukic:
No, Nelly. Stop squawking in your bird cage and grow a pair. I’m not asking for riddles in music videos or cryptic lyrics. I’m asking for you. Look, I’m leaving this starving country of Canada soon. I’m out. I’m gone.
Nelly Furtado:
Leaving? Where?
Joe Jukic:
Home. Croatia. For Christmas. But before I go, you’ve got one shot. Make that concert in Victoria. Prove to me you can escape from that record label cage you’ve been locked in. Show me it’s not all smoke and mirrors.
Nelly Furtado:
You think a concert could set me free?
Joe Jukic:
No. You can set yourself free. But if you don’t… don’t expect me to still be here when the snow melts.