There's a girl up the stairs,

Green eyes and lemon hair,

I wonder if there's something there.

She keeps her clothes on the floor,

A padlock on her door,

It keeps out all of the bad people.

I wonder if there's something I could wear,

To make her think that I was all that.

Late at night she'll pass my door,

Continue passed my floor,

I'm hoping for something more.

There's a park at the end of four street,

Where she runs and goes to read,

Behind all the highway sign and underneath all the concrete.

But I can't tell the ways she feels,

Just by looking.

Might give her the key to my apartment,

Hell, I might even offer to pay her rent,

That'd be alright.

(OoooOooOooOooOoo, OoooOooOooOooOoo, OoooOooOooOooOoo)