I stopped talking when I was six years old,
I didn't want anything more to do with the outside world.
I was happy being quiet but,
of course, they wouldn't leave me alone.
My parents tried every trick in the book,
from speech therapists to child psychologists.
They even tried bribery,
I could have anything as long as I said it out loud.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Of course this episode didn't last forever,
I've made my point and it was time to move on,
to peel away the next layer of deceit
and see what new surprises lay in store.
My school report said I showed no interest,
a disruptive influence.
I felt sorry for them in a way
and when they finally expelled me,
it didn't mean a thing.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
((At that time she stopped what she was doing,
she stopped playing, she stared,
she had the facial grimacing
and then the psychiatrist was saying:
"Julie, Julie, can you hear me?
Can you open your eyes?
Can you stick out your tongue?",
and, all of a sudden, Julie struck out.))
The November day I came home,
the Christmas decorations were already up.
Spray-on snow, coloured flashing lights
and an artificial tree that played
Silent Night over and over again.
My parents welcomed me with loving arms,
then, within an hour,
they were back at each other's throats.
Normal happy childhood back on course,
batteries not included.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it.
