Depeche Mode - Blasphemous Rumours 
  
  
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 againcandles 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