Girl of sixteen whole life ahead of her,
Slashed her wrists, bored with life.
For small mercies.
Fighting back the tears, mother reads the note again,
Sixteen candles burn in her mind.
She goes down on her knees and prays.
(chorus)
I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours, but i
Think that god's got a sick sense of humour, and
When i die, i expect to find him laughing.
(end chorus)