Some people love shoes of certain kinds
Some people love afternoons or the way the moon shines
And they have their own reasons

To feel the way they do
That's why I ask myself, what it is with you?


Is there something wrong
With the way I speak?
Do you even see me

When I pass you on the street
I'll close my eyes and let it be
Because I just can't see

Why you love to hate me

Some people love weekends

Because they can fool around
Some people love thunderstorms
Because of how the drops of rain fall down

And they have their own reasons
Whatever they may be
That's why I think it's kind of funny

That you don't have one for me

And it sucks to face the truth

That I ain't got no reasons too
Whenever asked the simple question
Why I feel the way I do

And I know it's stupid on my part
to say that I love you
Even though I know you hate me

And you don't know why you do.