Poor

Now I'm a sucker, a sinner, three times a loser

A fool who can't buy you a ring

You're a lady, a saint, you're three times I ain't

You're my bona fide double wide queen

I don't care for bills in the mailbox

I don't care for your dad on the phone

It's you and me in my chair, covered up in your hair

And it feels pretty good being poor

There's cracks in the ceiling and I love the feeling

Of watching you stuck in a dream

And you let out a smile, and I think for a while

When you're sleeping, you're dreaming of me

I don't care for bills in the mailbox

You don't care for the cars on the lawn

It's you and me in my bed, waking up to this mess

And it feels pretty good being poor

Na-na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na

Na-na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na, na

Na-na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na

Na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na

I don't care for bills in the mailbox

I don't care for your dad on the phone

It's you and me in my chair, covered up in your hair

And it feels pretty good being poor

I know we ain't got much, but we're so rich in love

And it feels pretty good being poor