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´ve been doing things that I was ashamed of
Running out of money if 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
When they just give it up, do whatever I want
there´s nothing that I´m really afraid of
You can´t explain because you don´t understand
And I don´t wanna 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
Cause I´m one step up in your stupid game
Who tore my shirt who told my secret
there´s rug burn 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
Send "UNDER THE TABLE" Ringtone to your Cell 
I´m sorry for the attitude and what I said
I was a little bit drunk when I called you up
I´ve been doing things that I was ashamed of
Running out of money if 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
When they just give it up, do whatever I want
there´s nothing that I´m really afraid of
You can´t explain because you don´t understand
And I don´t wanna 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
Cause I´m one step up in your stupid game
Who tore my shirt who told my secret
there´s rug burn 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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