Last One Standing ( happy trigger finger)
I’m going to change my name
Watch me do it.
to something like a wish.
black cherry hell
Yeah watch me do this…
I’m going to gain thirty pounds eating all your chocolate cake. Washing it down with all that fat free milk
I’m going to walk the neighbor’s dog and lose it all over again.
I’m going to inject all of your' heroin.
You hate this don’t you?
Just remember, there are no more Goth boys.
Yes that’s right
No more Goth boys.
I’m going to wine and dine her; I’m going to watch as you complain. I’m going to find my own desolation at this massive head trip party. I’m going to tell you that your music sucks. I’m going to roll my eyes and snort all your coke. I’m going to be a bitch that snarls like a cat. I’m going to act twisted. I’m going to find a path as hectic as the one you seem to lead.
Just remember. I’m doing this all for you, because there are no more Goth boys.
Gay ones, little ones, big ones, crying ones, cutting ones, screaming no fair ones. Black eyeliner jewel crusted lives, and wanton lips. We don’t miss them, they never existed.
My dreams come and kick me around, because I don’t get no sleep. Love is crazy inside of me. We don’t navigate it well. That’s what I tell them anyway.
I’m getting into all your cabinets. I am having manic moments. I am dying all your clothes. I am critiquing all your friends and art. I am making you something mother won’t recognize. I am burying you in a small cloud of dirt. I am feeling deserted in large rooms. I am smoking way too much in your clean bathrooms. I am crying you to sleep. I am bleeding all over the floor.
I do this all for you, because …
There are no more Goth boys.
I am acting like a petulant child. I am wasting what ever respect you had. I am telling it like it is. I am laughing about what you will believe. I am wearing heels too high and fake skin.
Just remember in the dark, when you sit there wondering what you should bring to this world. When you heart is blackening around the edges and you fear to be too depressed because of what they will think of you. Just another Goth boy.
Remember we are waiting for you. Like the last picture show. I need to run your fabricated life and dyed hair through my porcelain fingers. I need to judge the tight black style you chose to wear when the sun goes down. I need to talk about your heart, and sensitive devotion.
Don’t be afraid of what they will think. You are a digital dream. A black satin fiction. A banshee taste in the miasma of this strobe effect we call living. No one will ever know you, because there are no more Goth boys.
I do this all for you. Don’t you know?
I do this to prove you’re a dead ideal. So sign right up, join my show. You’ll sit and catcall and read bad poetry under the neon sign. Pure little black hearted Goth girls will cut themselves and have you sign their little black books in their blood. Just to prove they saw you there.
The sign reads
Last One Standing
Come see a satin black shaped doll. Come see a true near extinct Goth Boy...
You know what I mean…..
Watch me do it.
to something like a wish.
black cherry hell
Yeah watch me do this…
I’m going to gain thirty pounds eating all your chocolate cake. Washing it down with all that fat free milk
I’m going to walk the neighbor’s dog and lose it all over again.
I’m going to inject all of your' heroin.
You hate this don’t you?
Just remember, there are no more Goth boys.
Yes that’s right
No more Goth boys.
I’m going to wine and dine her; I’m going to watch as you complain. I’m going to find my own desolation at this massive head trip party. I’m going to tell you that your music sucks. I’m going to roll my eyes and snort all your coke. I’m going to be a bitch that snarls like a cat. I’m going to act twisted. I’m going to find a path as hectic as the one you seem to lead.
Just remember. I’m doing this all for you, because there are no more Goth boys.
Gay ones, little ones, big ones, crying ones, cutting ones, screaming no fair ones. Black eyeliner jewel crusted lives, and wanton lips. We don’t miss them, they never existed.
My dreams come and kick me around, because I don’t get no sleep. Love is crazy inside of me. We don’t navigate it well. That’s what I tell them anyway.
I’m getting into all your cabinets. I am having manic moments. I am dying all your clothes. I am critiquing all your friends and art. I am making you something mother won’t recognize. I am burying you in a small cloud of dirt. I am feeling deserted in large rooms. I am smoking way too much in your clean bathrooms. I am crying you to sleep. I am bleeding all over the floor.
I do this all for you, because …
There are no more Goth boys.
I am acting like a petulant child. I am wasting what ever respect you had. I am telling it like it is. I am laughing about what you will believe. I am wearing heels too high and fake skin.
Just remember in the dark, when you sit there wondering what you should bring to this world. When you heart is blackening around the edges and you fear to be too depressed because of what they will think of you. Just another Goth boy.
Remember we are waiting for you. Like the last picture show. I need to run your fabricated life and dyed hair through my porcelain fingers. I need to judge the tight black style you chose to wear when the sun goes down. I need to talk about your heart, and sensitive devotion.
Don’t be afraid of what they will think. You are a digital dream. A black satin fiction. A banshee taste in the miasma of this strobe effect we call living. No one will ever know you, because there are no more Goth boys.
I do this all for you. Don’t you know?
I do this to prove you’re a dead ideal. So sign right up, join my show. You’ll sit and catcall and read bad poetry under the neon sign. Pure little black hearted Goth girls will cut themselves and have you sign their little black books in their blood. Just to prove they saw you there.
The sign reads
Last One Standing
Come see a satin black shaped doll. Come see a true near extinct Goth Boy...
You know what I mean…..