She died in a pool of charcoal tears,
The patient reaper waited.
The champagne was spiked with cheap beer,
The fun was over-rated.
Mummy and Daddy didn't know
The party was a rave
Or that Junkie Gods would get
The money that they gave.
Their precious little Prom Queen
Was sprawled across the floor;
The feeling wasn't strong enough,
She wanted more and more.
Buried alive in a cloud of coke,
Choked on what she'd been fed,
The Fat Lady sang
And the Prom Queen was dead.

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