I did not ask to be alive,
Nor asked He it of me.
So here I am, and now I strive
That He should let me be.
Don't want to love, worship, adore,
That lowly servant's role!
I'll fight, I'll hate till I'm no more,
Till He annihilates my soul.
Oh, then I'll win, and He will lose:
Erase my memory.
Could it be true? He won't so choose!
Alas, alas, for me.