It's hard trying to live the goth life.
You like teasing veins with a knife.
Preps are conformists you laugh about.
They laugh back at you without a doubt.
You think living is all about dying,
It'd be worth living if you're trying.
Your group finds cutters to be cool.
Sane people surely call you a fool.
Edgar Allan is rolling in his grave,
At how people can abuse the Poe name.
Too much makeup marks your arrival,
Cuts on your arms signifies survival.
Music loses its sense of originality,
It only pacifies the goth mentality.
You're from a strict Catholic house,
But Satan is the man in your mouth.
Big news is a piercing in a new spot.
Your futures are pissed down the pot.
It's hard forgetting the goth life.
In ten years you'll be a preps' wife.
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