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DEPECHE MODE - Blasphemous Rumours Lyrics

Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of herSlashed her wrists, bored with lifeDidn't succeed, thank the lordFor small merciesFighting back the tears, mother reads the note againSixteen candles burn in her mindShe takes the blame, it's always the sameShe goes down on her knees and praysI don't want to start any blasphemous rumoursBut I think that god's got a sick sense of humorAnd when I die I expect to find him laughingGirl of eighteen, fell in love with everythingFound new life in jesus christHit by a car, ended upOn a life support machineSummer's day, as she passed awayBirds were singing in the summer skyThen came the rain, and once againA tear fell from her mother's eyeI don't want to start any blasphemous rumoursBut I think that god's got a sick sense of humorAnd when I die I expect to find him laughing
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