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