Woorden: Isaac Russell. Golden.

Baby girl unhand my heart
cause it's been too long
And the ink in my veins
Scribbles the same old songs
Those of regret and loss and always pain
And you ain't helping

And you know I'm going to be a scribble in your book
An awful risk you should have never took
And girls like you are always cut too deep
And you don't want me

Cause You want men with muscle-y arms
And not some kid who plays guitar
Girl lovers line up at your door
They call you golden
They call me the chore

Too many times, Too many times that I've messed up
And you deserve the stars but girl I'm just a book
For you to read, and like all the rest burn up
Did you read enough?

You want men with muscle-y arms
And not some kid who plays guitar
Girl lovers line up at your door
They call you golden
They call me the chore

You trick me in thinking
You want men with muscle-y arms
And not some kid who plays guitar
Girl lovers line up at your door
They call you golden
They call me the chore