She's 16 years old with a death rattle in hear throat
I said 16 years old with a death rattle in her throat
She's hoping to get bad habits
She's got black lace round her coat
She thinks she's a fox, but she's really a rabbit
Look out, here comes the stoat.

She's got the Doom, She's got the Doom
She shares a room with her sister, she shares a room
All she's hoping for is the moon
She's got the sweet, she's got the sweet
She's got the sweet little 16 Doom.

She goes cruising in the evenings with a friend she knows from work
Goes to the cafe on the corner, where she likes to flirt
She goes to the Fairground and she shares her dream
And she wonders if that dream can ever be reality.

She's got three friends and they all move arm in arm
With four of them together how can they ever come to harm?
The giggles and she flutters and she sniffs the filth-rich air
Sniffs the oil, the dirt, the Huckster at the fair.

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