by Rob Balder
To the tune of “Always a Woman,” written and performed by Billy Joel.
She’s a pretty young bundle of classic neuroses,
And she wears a black cape, just like Bela Lugosi’s.
And she thinks about death to a frightening degree.
Yes she’s morbid and sick, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.
She can stay paper-thin without doing aerobics,
But she can’t get a tan ’cause she’s heliophobic.
Yes she’s sadly deficient in Vitamin D.
Flies by night like a moth, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.
Oh, did you notice the doom,
When she entered the room,
With her boyfriend in drag?
Oh, and she’s pale as a Borg.
Like she came from the morgue.
And fell out of the bag.
In her lightest of moods, she is cranky and snappy.
No one’s ever succeeded in making her happy.
So if you see her smile you should probably flee.
Keeps a lid on her glee, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.
And she’ll probably end up with an English degree.
She stays with her clique, but she’s always a Goth chick to me.
Oh, she won’t carry a purse.
She can quote Poe by verse.
She’s extremely perverse.
Oh, and it only gets worse.
She lives under a curse.
Pick her up in your hearse.
She will give you a stare, like she’s going to kill ya.
Then she’ll offer you sex, but it’s like necrophilia.
Which is effing depressing, I’m sure you’ll agree.
With her Celtic tattoo, nothing Prozac can do, ’cause she’s always a Goth chick to me.
And she’ll never admit that she’s from Tennessee.
All alone in the hallway, she’s always a Goth chick to me.