There's a shop down the street,
Where they sell plastic rings,
For a quarter a piece, I swear it.
Yeah, I know that it's cheap,
Not like gold in your dreams,
But I hope that you'll still wear it.
Yeah, the ink may stain my skin,
And my jeans may all be ripped.
I'm not perfect, but I swear,
I'm perfect for you.
And there's no guarantee,
That this will be easy.
It's not a miracle ya need, believe me.
Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me,
But I will love you endlessly.
Wings aren't what you need, you need me.