"Poor" lyrics

Now I'm a sucker
I'm 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 bonafide 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
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

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