Girl of sixteennWhole life ahead of hernSlashed her wristsnBored with lifenDidn't succeednThank the LordnFor small merciesnnFighting back the tearsnMother reads the note againnSixteen candles burn in her mindnShe takes the blamenIt's always the samenShe goes down on her kneesnAnd praysnnI don't want to startnAny blasphemous rumoursnBut I think that God'snGot a sick sense of humornAnd when I dienI expect to find Him laughingnnGirl of eighteennFell in love with everythingnFound new life in Jesus ChristnHit by a carnEnded upnOn a life support machinennSummer's daynAs she passed awaynBirds were singingnIn the summer's skynThen came the rainnAnd once againnA tear fellnFrom her mother's eyennI don't want to startnAny blasphemous rumoursnBut I think that God'snGot a sick sense of humornAnd when I dienI expect to find Him laughingnnSsss....