Uploaded December 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
"Santa, I Would Like to be Goth Next Year"
My room is all beige and practical light
My sweater’s too normal, my hopes are polite
I drink cocoa, I smile, I wave at the snow
But something inside me is whispering, “No.”
I’ve been vanilla my whole recorded life
But I feel a black wardrobe calling tonight
I don’t own chains, I don’t own lace
I don’t even know the shadow to chase
But the calendar’s turning, the future is near
And I’ve made up my mind for the coming new year
So Santa, I don’t wanna be good anymore
I wanna be dark in a beautiful way
I wanna wear boots that sound like thunder
When I’m walking my doubts away
I don’t need toys, I don’t need gold
I don’t need angels or hymns
All I want for Christmas this year
Is everything to be goth next year when January begins
I need black shirts that look properly tragic
Eyeliner dark, borderline fanatic
A leather jacket with a tragic past
Fishnet gloves and a slow-burn sass
I need a playlist that only cries
And a rosary I don’t know how to use right
A mirror that lies in a dramatic tone
And a bedroom that looks like I live alone
I’ve got no bats, I’ve got no rings
No ankh, no velvet, no cursed little things
But I’ve got a heart that’s ready to try
To look mysterious even when I buy groceries
So Santa, I don’t wanna glow anymore
I wanna dim like a cathedral flame
I wanna dress like I’ve been grieving
For someone who never came
I don’t need cheer, I don’t need snow
I don’t need reindeer or hymns
All I want for Christmas this year
Is everything to be goth next year when January begins
I’ll still say please
I’ll still hold doors
I’ll just do it in boots with steel in the soles
I’ll still feel soft
I’ll still get scared
I’ll just look like I emerged from despair
Let me keep my awkward laugh
Under black lipstick and a funeral scarf
Let me be shy in a dramatic key
Let me be sad with accessories
I want a coffin-shaped jewelry box
Posters of bands I don’t know yet but trust
A cheap little fog machine for my room
For when I’m lonely at 3 p.m. in June
I want a journal that only writes in ache
And a New Year’s identity I can fake
Till it turns into something real and strange
Like the bravest version of a change
So Santa, wrap me in permanent night
But leave a little window for me
Give me the courage to look how I feel
Even when I’m still basically me
I don’t need perfect, I don’t need cool
I don’t need to suddenly fit in
All I want for Christmas this year
Is permission to become goth next year when it begins
I’ll wake up January first in black
Still scared, still soft, still way off track
But for the first time I might recognize
The shadow I’ve always had behind my eyes.
"Santa, I Would Like to be Goth Next Year"
My room is all beige and practical light
My sweater’s too normal, my hopes are polite
I drink cocoa, I smile, I wave at the snow
But something inside me is whispering, “No.”
I’ve been vanilla my whole recorded life
But I feel a black wardrobe calling tonight
I don’t own chains, I don’t own lace
I don’t even know the shadow to chase
But the calendar’s turning, the future is near
And I’ve made up my mind for the coming new year
So Santa, I don’t wanna be good anymore
I wanna be dark in a beautiful way
I wanna wear boots that sound like thunder
When I’m walking my doubts away
I don’t need toys, I don’t need gold
I don’t need angels or hymns
All I want for Christmas this year
Is everything to be goth next year when January begins
I need black shirts that look properly tragic
Eyeliner dark, borderline fanatic
A leather jacket with a tragic past
Fishnet gloves and a slow-burn sass
I need a playlist that only cries
And a rosary I don’t know how to use right
A mirror that lies in a dramatic tone
And a bedroom that looks like I live alone
I’ve got no bats, I’ve got no rings
No ankh, no velvet, no cursed little things
But I’ve got a heart that’s ready to try
To look mysterious even when I buy groceries
So Santa, I don’t wanna glow anymore
I wanna dim like a cathedral flame
I wanna dress like I’ve been grieving
For someone who never came
I don’t need cheer, I don’t need snow
I don’t need reindeer or hymns
All I want for Christmas this year
Is everything to be goth next year when January begins
I’ll still say please
I’ll still hold doors
I’ll just do it in boots with steel in the soles
I’ll still feel soft
I’ll still get scared
I’ll just look like I emerged from despair
Let me keep my awkward laugh
Under black lipstick and a funeral scarf
Let me be shy in a dramatic key
Let me be sad with accessories
I want a coffin-shaped jewelry box
Posters of bands I don’t know yet but trust
A cheap little fog machine for my room
For when I’m lonely at 3 p.m. in June
I want a journal that only writes in ache
And a New Year’s identity I can fake
Till it turns into something real and strange
Like the bravest version of a change
So Santa, wrap me in permanent night
But leave a little window for me
Give me the courage to look how I feel
Even when I’m still basically me
I don’t need perfect, I don’t need cool
I don’t need to suddenly fit in
All I want for Christmas this year
Is permission to become goth next year when it begins
I’ll wake up January first in black
Still scared, still soft, still way off track
But for the first time I might recognize
The shadow I’ve always had behind my eyes.
