It's my arms that wrap you up nice
It's my arms, it's my arms, baby

Small rooms with record exec types

Whisper away my future lately

I'll introduce you
To producers

I'll write your songs and make them way damn shorter

I'm so confused
This industry has made me cold you'll find

I trusted you to make me shine bright
This is almost getting old

Shock me with fear it's taking longer

Blood, sweat, and years will make me way damn stronger

It's my words that fail to give insight

I blame you, blame me, baby

It suits me just fine

This is the package I'm sending

These are the clothes that I'm wearing

These are the words that I'm saying

These are the notes they're playing

I'll introduce you to producers
I'll write your songs and make them way damn shorter

And it suits me just fine