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Meet you downstairs in the bar and hurt
Your rolled up sleeves in your skull t-shirt
You say "Why did you do it with him today
And sniffed me out like I was Tanqueray
Cause you're my fella, my guy
Hand me your Stella and fly,
By the time I'm out the door,
You tear men down like Roger Moore
I cheated myself,
Like I knew I would
I told you, I was trouble
Amy Winehouse
You know that I'm no good
Upstairs in bed with my ex-boy,
he's in a place but I can't give joy
Thinking on you in the final throes,
This is when my buzzer goes
Run out to meet you, chips and pitta,
You say "when we married,"
Cause you're not bitter,
"there'll be none of him no more"
I cried for you on the kitchen floor

Sweet reunion Jamaica and Spain,
We're like how we were again,
I'm in the tub, you on the seat,
Lick your lips as a I soak my feet
Then you notice little carpet burns,
My stomach drops and my guts churn,
You shrug and it's the worst,
To truly stuck the knife in first
Yeah you know that I'm no good