| Dido Song on the Radio |
|---|
| I’m eight years old |
| I’m sitting in my mom’s car |
| I never even sinned yet |
| I’m not even old enough to know that something’s wrong |
| The radio is playing |
| The Dido song called «Thank You» |
| But tears are in her eyes and she’s been crying all week long |
| And somewhere in my heart |
| I know what she is thinking |
| How’d I end up like this, I just wish I could be strong |
| I’m ready for the key change |
| I know this song gets happy |
| I know this song gets happy |
| It happened to the kids |
| There’s dirt all over their faces |
| They cried amongst their friends |
| They wanted to be famous |
| Instead they all got sick |
| A generation wasted |
| Now they cry alone |
| They live in databases |
| Sixteen years of looking at my screen now |
| The URL forbidden |
| Finally I’m old enough to know that something’s wrong |
| I guess this is my life now |
| I disappear in drawings |
| I know that looking at this means that I’ll never belong |
| I’m walking 'round my school |
| Keeping it a secret |
| I pretend that I’m not queer and they just play along |
| I’m ready for this key change |
| I hope this song gets happy |
| I hope this song gets happy |
| It happened to the kids |
| There’s dirt all over their faces |
| They cried amongst their friends |
| They wanted to be famous |
| Instead they all got sick |
| A generation wasted |
| Now they cry alone |
| They live in databases |
