Please do not shoot me, please do not shoot me.
I'm begging you; I'm content how Iam.
What you're offering is not what I need.
If you shoot me, you'll have the upper hand

Somehow I know my fate; you're going to shoot.
I want to feel strong; I only feel fear.
My fate is certain. It is absolute.
I am afraid my soul will disappear.

You lift your dangerous hand with such grace.
The fear is obvious in my weak voice.
What you'll do is written upon your face.
I know that leaves me with no choice.

Cupid, please don't shoot me with your arrow.
When you shoot me, my soul will drift below.