Poor Heart

You won't steal my poor heart again

You won't steal my poor heart again

You won't steal my tape recorder

I'll call the

Lord and He'll put you in the pen

You won't steal that thing again

I didn't even know your name or what was your game

But stealin' things has sure brought you to fame

I wanna know if you stole mine

It was one of a kind and

I'm sayin' if you're to blame

Your life will never be the same

You won't steal my poor heart again

You won't steal my poor heart again

You won't steal my tape recorder

I'll call the

Lord and He'll put you in the pen

You won't steal that thing again

I can't track you anymore

Detective work has sure become a bore

So tell me what you did with it

And stop this ****, give up yourself

Before they come knockin' at your door

You won't steal my poor heart again

You won't steal my poor heart again

When I feel the blade of that cupid sword

I'll call the

Lord and He'll put you in the pen

You won't steal that thing again

You won't steal my poor heart again