I sit quietly there on the chair
and you pace back and forth
and ask how to make me care

I shrug and say I don't know
how don't you see that I already do?
you sigh, point, tell me to go

And as I walk down the hall,
I cry deep inside,
because this will never be my call

I try so hard, every day
and it never seems to show
it's not even "ok"

Help me
Give me
a key