"You're good at math, too bad that means
everyone will hate you, for the rest of your life."

"You worked ahead, good for you
but don't talk about it, I don't need that stress."

"You have an A, and you're sitting there shaking?
I have a C, do you see anything wrong with me?"

"You, yeah you, you've done the homework, right?
I haven't yet, what's the answer to nine?"

"Hey nerd, hey loser, your answer was wrong.
I got a bad grade on the homework: it's all your fault."

"You're crying, that's nice, stop hyperventilating you faker
I'm standing up while you're there on the ground
right where you belong, I've found."

Stop.
Make it stop.
I SAID STOP!

Yeah me, the loser, the geek.
You push me down because you're jealous,
I think. I tried to help
I tried to be nice
But being around you is worse
than losing a fistfight.

Your words are cruel and filled with anger
towards me, someone who hasn't done a thing
against you. Conversely, I've helped.

Don't take any memories of me
when you end up in hell.
Oh - was that mean? I'm sorry
I couldn't tell.

My emotions are shadowed, you see
by the medication they decided to give me
for the anxiety, the panic,
that you ignored. It set me free