All those kisses that we stole
They're all cast in fire and gold.
In a gold no one can weigh,
We made out like bandits, babe.

And all those Bonnies, all those Clydes,
They're amateurs to you and I,
And coming home's a prison break
We made out like bandits, babe.

And all that love, all those mistakes
And what else can a poor man make,
Do you wonder if there was
Any rich folks rich as us?

And they say those two won't get far
In the backseat of a car
But we pulled off the interstate
And out like bandits babe.

And we pulled off the interstate
And made out like bandits, babe.

Writer : RITTER, JOSH
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing