By Mike Jacobson
The bad seed grew to a tree
And all the faceless couldn’t believe
There was another name, another
time, another place,
Another way to see 16
And the bad girl lived to bleed
Just to steal their sympathy
And all those whom she’d had
Watched her fade to black
Until her light just lay dead on the streets
These are really simple times,
We only make them hard by saying they’re
right
And before you know it you can only speak
When you’re feeling strong, and everyone
seems weak
We should have never seen 16