She’s wearing black tights
And hot pink ecstentions.
She cries to Hawthorne Heights
But never AFI
(I wonder why.)
She’s one of those girls,
Crazy but tamed,
Whispered about, but never ashamed.
She’s a wild, strange chick
She stands out in a crowd,
She’s her very own clique.
She wears black and purple and skulls-
It’s her camouflage.
She doesn’t dance to music-
She’d rather mosh.
She doesn’t believe in gosh
But she knows how to rave.
She laughs like everything is a joke
Because everything is a joke
Scars line her wrist
Like obedient Nazi soldiers.
She’s got a wild imagination
And she wants to unleash it.
She never forgets a sensation-
No she wont ever forget.
She doesn’t really care,
She only thinks about boys
And her colorful hair.
She’s a drama queen,
The goddess of tears.
She’s always on the scene
And seems to have no fears.
She’s a story of her own,
A little soap opera in her head.
She’s always on the phone,
She swears to mosh until she’s dead.
She’s one of those girls,
Amazing, sweet, cool.
Dramatic, moody, cruel.
Everyone wants to be her.
No one wants to see her.
She’s the girl you love to hate
And hate to love!
She’s wearing black tights
And hot pink ecstentions.
She cries to Hawthorne Heights
But never to AFI.
(Do you ever wonder why?)