You can tell
by the scars on my arms
and the cracks in my hips
and the dents in my car
and the blisters on my lips
that I'm not the carefullest of girls

You can tell
from the glass on the floor
and the strings that are breaking
and I keep on breaking more and it looks like I am shaking but it's just the temperature

but then again if I were any colder I could disengage
if I were any older I would act my age
but I don't think that you'd believe me
it's not the way I'm meant to be it's just the way the operation made me

You can tell
from the state of the room
that they let me out to soon
and the pills that I ate came a couple weeks to late
and I've got some issues to work through
there i go again
pretending to be you
make believing that I have a soul beneath the surface
trying to convince you it was accidentally on purpose

I am not so serious this passion is a plagarism
I might join your century but only on a rare occasion
I was taken out before the labour pains set in and now behold the world worst accident:
I am the girl anachronism

and you can tell
by the red in my eyes
and the bruises on my thighs
and the knots in my hair
and the bathroom full of flies
that I'm not right now at all
there I go again
pretending that I'll fall
don't call the doctors, they've seen it all before, they'll say: "just let her crash and burn, she'll learn - the attention just encourages her"

and you can tell by the full body-cast
that you're sorry that you asked
though you did everything you could
like any decent person would
but I might be catching so don't touch
you'll start believing you're immune to gravity and stuff
don't get me wet because the bandages will all come off

and you can tell from the smoke at the stake
that the current state is critical, but it is the little things, for instance: in the time it takes to break it she could make up ten excuses "please excuse her for the day it's just the way the medication makes her"

I don't necessarily believe there is a cure for this
so I might join your century but only as a doubtful guest
I was too precarious, removed as a ceasarian
and now behold the world's worst accident:
I am the girl anachronism!