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Preppy Poseur
Preppy poseur, what a shame,
Tried to hard and lost the game.
Not a prep and not a punk,
Guess this means she's out of luck.
Doesn't fit in anywhere,
All because of her clothes and hair.
She cried herself to sleep at night.
She slits her wrists,
Then pretends it's all right.
She's half alive and no one cares,
So she turns to the ones who are just like her
Only to get pushed away.
It's such a shame
How people can treat each other these days.
If you smile too much, then you're a prep,
But if you don't care too much
For clothes, boys, and a rep,
Then you aren't good enough to be friends with the preps.
So where can one go,
When you're not deep enough
And not thin enough
And don't wear enough black?
Is it always about the outside?
Or can a person's soul count, too?
Will I ever be fucking good enough for you?
Preppy poseur, what a shame,
Tried too hard and lost the game.