My second gig with the rock band I’m in was at a house party for Halloween. I had a stellar costume. Got a hot pink ball gown, shredded the life out of it, borrowed a tiara from our guitarist’s girlfriend (who was not only Miss Morgan Hill but was first runner up for Miss California, losing to Vanessa Williams), made a satin sash that said “Prom 1989” (the year I graduated high school), then made up my face with gray make-up and stuck a bullet hole in the middle of my forehead. Viola, Dead Prom Queen!

Everyone at the party asked how I died. Thus, this song was born:

Dead Prom Queen

Took some pictures with your mom
the night of Senior Prom
You wore a blue-ruffled shirt
I drank coffee to remain alert

We drove to our dinner
at the steakhouse-du-jour
I’ll remember this the rest of my life, fer shure.

When we got to the dance
it was already full swing
and we filled out our ballots for Prom Queen and King

The lighting dimmed down
and a hush filled the crowd
And I crossed my fingers that my name would be called…

AND IT WAS!!!

But Buffy Jenkins glared at me
And when I sat upon my throne
she vowed that soon I’d be overthrown

Challenged me to a duel
20 paces in the parking lot
We loaded our sawed-off shotguns with buckshot.

20 paces later we both turned and fired
My shot missed her but she got me
right between my eyes

And now I’m just a dead prom queen
Dead prom queen
Won’t need to be home by 2 a.m. now,
’cause now I’m a dead prom queen.