Depeche Mode Follow

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

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

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

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

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

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