I had John Wesley Harding on the stereo as I got ready before work (the artist, not the album), and the following lyrics made my morning:

Goth girl, who is the guy on the leash?
Does he wash dishes?
Goth girl, he looks like Pete Murphy to me,
Oh yeah, he wishes.

I know he's appropriately frail,
But I bet he can't afford
To take you to the Nine Inch Nails.
(I've got two tickets.)

Had to share.