1, 2 1, 2, 3, 4 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 shit, 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