I don't know who this girl is
She showed up a few days ago
In her too-short skirts and push-up bras
Pretty in black, black, black
A secretive smirk on her lollipop lips
And candy flavored tongue
But she's definitely not that sweet
Slightly deranged
Obsessed with freedom
And destruction
She'll look upon you with hunger
As wind whips her hair into her dead eyes
But you'll never see her again
I don't know who this girl is.