You . . . you really did believe
Every word they said
And you . . . you believed them
And started wishing you were dead
And of all the people, why to you?
What exactly did you do?
What made you think you were so great?

Why do you believe
That you gotta be
Something special to me?
When will you see
It's meant to be
You are who you are
So you never should be . . . mean

Now . . . you feel you're bad
And you really are the worse
And how . . . much you changed
Because you're cursed
And of all the things you could've done
How come you didn't duck and run?
Now what is it that you await?


You just had to be awkward
Had to be thin
Had to make sure
That you fit in
And now that you're gone
You've gone away
When they find out
What will they say?


Lyrics submitted by Insane_J

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    General Comment"I wrote two awesome songs last night. One about my ex, and one about my recently-deceased friend Rebecca. She dies of anorexia. I didn't really say much about it 'till now because it's hard to comprehend, because me and Rebecca were like best friends in 8th grade and we've just barely stayed in contact lately. I was gonna go over her house next week and we were gonna hang out but . . . fucking people. She wasn't fat, just had a little bit of pudge, and her "friends" made fun of her for it. She got anorexic, and it eventually killed her. Fucking people. I swear. The song's called "Mean". I doubt I'll forget her. R.I.P. Rebecca Young, December 17th, 1985 - September 9th, 2002. :-* I love you." - From my journal. Rebecca was really pretty, and you know, people gotta be cunts about everything so there ya go. Later.
    Insane_Jon September 17, 2002   Link

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