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Blasphemous rumours

by Depeche Mode

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Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of her
Slashed her wrists, bored with life
Didn´t succeed, thank the Lord
For small mercies

Fighting back the tears, mother reads the note again
Sixteen candles burn in her mind
She takes the blame, it´s always the same
She goes down on her knees and prays

I don´t want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God´s got a sick sense of humor
And when I die I expect to find Him laughing

Girl of eighteen, fell in love with everything
Found new life in Jesus Christ
Hit by a car, ended up
On a life support machine

Summer´s day, as she passed away
Birds were singing in the summer sky
Then came the rain, and once again
A tear fell from her mother´s eye

I don´t want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God´s got a sick sense of humor
And when I die I expect to find Him laughing
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