Last night I was out of my
head
I'm sorry for the attitude

and what I said
I was a little
bit drunk when I called you
up
I'd been doing things that I
was ashamed of

Running out of
money and that's what it
takes
and I get the credit for
the rookie mistakes
and he just
stands by and he makes me cry

like this is what dreams are
made of

Like no one's gonna see
us holding hands under the
table
Baby take a shot
As we
stand here sweating in the parking
lot

Anyway you're really not my
type
I usually prefer the more
responsible kind
Because they
just give it up and do whatever I
want
And there's nothing that I'm
really afraid of

You can't
explain it and you don't
understand
And how about we
don't talk about it ever
again
You either couldn't play
nice
gave me bad advice
or had
me doing things that I was ashamed
of

Like no one has a clue
what's going on under the
table
Then baby say my name
I'm
one step up in your stupid
game

Who tore my shirt, who
told my secret
There's rugburn on
my back
And your knees are blue
and black
And you come back
To
get your earrings and your
camera

And your coffee
pot
Burning hot

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