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.
Chorus:
I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I
think that God's got a sick sense of humour, 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
Chorus:
I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God's got a sick sense of humour
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 humour
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 humour
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 humour
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 humour
And when I die, I expect to find him laughing