Walls are tired, of holding the same old ceilings words have found their way to stay in and they don't let out feelings It's written badly but verses say shes mad and creepy and the rest of things we kind of know. They say there'll never be a girl like her again with her socks up to her knees and her obsession 'bout bees. And with her eyes that she uses to touch Everything, everything she looks at. Cups are tired of being filled with the same coffee. The floor can't stand that people stepping on won't even say sorry. They say there'll never be a girl like her again with her socks up to her knees and her obsession 'bout bees. And with her eyes that she uses to touch everything, everything she looks at. Don't stay longer staring at her eyes.