I met a guy in makeup in the brightness of the sun,
I said, you’ll be a vampire, then, by name of Pattinson,
He sighed and shrugged his pallid face, alas, my friend, it’s true,
I am the Teenage Vampire, but my name is Bob to you.
I have no cape or coffin, it really makes me sick,
And although I have two gleaming fangs I haven’t got a dick,
They’ve made me PG-rated, it’s a fate quite worse than death,
I just glamour girls with melting looks, it is a waste of breath.
The camera it does love me, it follows like a pup,
While I drink my bottled blood mix, like cocoa from a cup,
So please review my contract and release me from this Hell,
The money’s good but, really, it is career death knell.