Baby I was born this way.

You, with your words like knives, and swords and the weapons that you use against me. You have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like a nothing. You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard, calling me out when I’m wounded. You

 picking on the weaker man, well you can take me down with just one single blow.

 But you don’t know, what you don’t know... someday I’ll be living in a big all city and                                 all you’re ever going to be is mean. Someday I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me and all you’re ever going to be is mean. Why you gotta be so mean?

Drunk and grumbling on about how I can’t sing, and all you are 

is mean, all you are is mean; and a liar and pathetic and alone in life;   and mean, and mean, and mean, AND MEAN.