I should have told you that I could be mean.
I could have told you about all the ugly I've seen
and that I was actually the cause of some of these things.
But maybe somehow you knew all along,
and just didn't care about what I had done wrong.
Should I dare even ask what's in your past?
Do you want me to know what hides behind your mask?
Did you even bother to try and cover your tracks?
I could have told you about the times I wasn't nice.
How it wasn't my fault but that didn't make it right.
About how I got over and about how I was used.
About how I took something from someone I didn't want to lose
and now I have to say good-bye to someone I didn't choose.