Next to your heartbeat where I should be,

keep it deep within your soul.

And if you hurt me

well, that's okay baby, only words bleed.

Inside these pages you just hold me,

and I won’t ever let you go.

When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me

under the lamppost back on Sixth street,

hearing you whisper through the phone:

"Wait for me to come home."

Photograph, Ed Sheeran.
Cada día estoy más segura de que este tipo intenta matarme con sus canciones.