I left home and moved to Brooklyn
where my boyfriend had a place
And he had track marks on his arms
but had the most angelic face
I watched my friends die before twenty-one,
and now I'm twenty-eight
I'm at the doctor's every day,
because I can't stop losing weight
And now I'm the one with needles
in my arms and in my legs
I'm making jokes about the blood tests,
and I'm planning my estate
And I don't wanna blame the child,
but I have to speculate
If this could all just be an answer
to those prayers that came delayed
Because I never would have said it,
if I knew I'd have to wait
Until the moment I was happy,
then it all disintegrates
And I'm singing
"Please, God, I don't wanna be sick
And I don't wanna hurt, so get it over with quick
Please, God, I wanna be loved
Don't wanna be somebody
that you're tryna get rid of
Please, God, I don't wanna be sick
And I don't wanna hurt, so get it over with quick
Please, God, I wanna be loved
I don't wanna be somebody you're tryna get rid of"
Thank you