I'm 16 years old, and every day something happens to me.
Oh, oh, oh!
I hug myself till my arms turn blue,
and then I close my eyes and I cry and cry
till the tears come down and I can taste them.
I love to taste my tears.
I am special. I am special.
Please, God, please, don't let me be normal.
I'd like to swim in a clear blue stream
where the water is icy cold,
then go to town in a golden gown
and have my fortune told.
Just once, just once,
just once before I'm old,
I'd like to be not evil,
but a little worldly wise,
to be the kind of girl designed
to be kissed upon the eyes.
I'd like to dance till two o'clock
or sometimes dance till dawn,
or if the band could stand,
just go on and on and on.
Just once, just once,
before the chance is gone.
I'd like to waste a week or two
and never do a chore,
to wear my hair unfastened
so it billows to the floor.
To do the things I've dreamed about
but never done before.
Perhaps I'm bad or wild or mad
with lots of grief in store,
but I want much more than keeping house,
much more, much more,
much more.