Cherry - Amy Winehouse

Her name is Cherry, we’ve just met

But already she knows me better than you

She understands me after eighteen years

And you still don’t see me like you ought to do

Maybe we could talk 'bout things

If you was made of wood and strings

While I love her every sound

I don’t know how to tune you down

You’re so thick and my patience’s thin

So I got me a new best friend

With a pickup that puts you to shame

And Cherry is her name

And when I’m lonely, Cherry’s there

And she plays along while I sing out my blues

I could be crying, and you don’t care

You won’t call me back, you’re stubborn as a mule

Maybe we could talk 'bout things

If you was made of wood and strings

You might think I’ve gone too far

I’m talking 'bout my new guitar