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