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.