“Why do you like, dress in black all the time?”
“You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
“Why do you wear black?”

You look at me like I’m a freak from accross the street,
But you’re the real freak, FREAK,

In fact,
Your polo shirt and Capri pants scare the shit out of me,

Why do I wear black?

I wear black because fuck you, that’s why.

I wear black because I’m in mourning,
I mourn you,
Your pathetic existence as another nothing person,
I mourn your poor soul,
What it could have been and what you turned it into,

I mourn the fact that you take directions from glowing boxes,
Stapled pieces of paper and radio transmissions,

I mourn the fact that you’re going to grow up just like mommy and daddy,
All their paranoia’s and fears of the world instilled in you,
That you in turn will instill into your children and your children’s children,

I mourn all of their souls too.

I wear black to confuse you,
Make you wonder why I’m dressed in black,
Make sure that you don’t try and talk to me,
I wear black to turn you off,
I pray that you dont try to talk to me,

But mostly,
I wear black because it’s a complimenting shade,
And I look pretty in black.

No, just kidding,
I’m actually Satan.