Its the same old way,
I see her sitting there everyday,
That girl in the lunchroom,
She sits all by herself,
I see her everyday,
She reminds me of myself..inside,
I look at her,
And wonder why,
How people can look at her,
And watch her hold in her cry,
And i want to reach out to her,
And give her a friend,
And why don't I,
I guess I'm not a friend,
But it is the same old way,
How does she stay,
A l i v e ,
And i wanna reach out,
I wanna lift her off the ground,
Tell her not to give up,
And give her a hand,
But the question is,
How is this,
That this poor sweet girl,
Can live her life like this,
And I can't stop imagining how she feels,
And i can't stop staring,
My heart just falls,
She sits there everyday,
In that same old place,
And i sit nearby,
Watching the hidden cry,
And i wish i could tell her,
That i can be a friend,
I would be by her side,
And then-
I just don't,
Get up
And i feel so bad,
And i want so bad,
To get up and be by her side,
She has that same look,
The same everyday,
I just can't stand it,
I hope to lead her the way.....
And there goes that look again,
Sad and held in,
The Cries of the seventh grader,
Trapped within
