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 is it with you?



Is there something wrong

With the way I speak?

You don't 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

Beacause 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.