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Well I hardly knew ya baby,
And you were comin’ on,
Mama told me there’d be days like these,
I shoulda known better maybe,
Woulda seen right through ya,
I needed you like a disease.

I ain’t gonna cry over you,
You’re a mystery,
I ain’t gonna cry over you,
You’re history — history.

You said you’d wait forever,
But I know your type,
The lights are on but on-one’s home,
I changed my number maybe,
You better change your mind,
Cause I’d rather spend the night alone.

I ain’t your kinda guy,
So forget about me,
Cause I ain’t too shy to say what I’m thinkin’ — hit it,
I got reckless baby,
Put you in your place,
Next time maybe re-arrange your face.

Written by:
B. Adams
J. Vallance