| Beachside parking lot
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| Her left mirror had fallen off
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| Salty hair with a paddle pop
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| Just my type
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| So we made dinner plans
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| Maybe I should be the one who drives
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| Her father was a bass playing man
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| Fair to say that I was working on my handshake the whole damn night
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| Baby, I want to be your golden retriever
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| Be your full-time believer for anything you need
|
| I’ll be your idea receiver
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| I hope you know that I can be that guy
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| She ruled my dreams
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| Had me fixated on the make-believe
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| Let’s go live in a suburban street
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| Up on the hillside
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| Where we can sleep in late
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| We’ll be hushed in our own little cloud
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| Til we remember it’s a rubbish day
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| I’ll go sprinting through the rain before that truck comes round
|
| Baby, I want to be your golden retriever
|
| Be your full-time believer for anything you need
|
| I’ll be your idea receiver
|
| I hope you know that I can be that guy
|
| I can drive a minivan
|
| Trade my guitars for a folding pram
|
| Forever be a family man
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| Sail that ship till I die
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| Spin you round the kitchen floor
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| Dancing with a glass full of wine
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| You leading me to the bedroom door
|
| I can be the Michael to your Holly for the rest of time
|
| Baby, I want to be your golden retriever
|
| Be your full-time believer for anything you need
|
| I’ll be your idea receiver
|
| I hope you know that I can be that guy |