​​at 8 years old

[Intro]
(Eight-eight-eight-eight)
(Telemedicine)

[Chorus]
I wasn't worried 'bout nothin' at eight years old
Now I'm on my hands and knees beggin' to be sold
It's no longer a, "Who for?," it's, "When will I fold?"
I know I'm a mess, I don't need to be told

[Verse]
I'm under heaps of pressure that aren't gettin' better
My allergies flare up due to weather
The pile hasn't gotten shorter in months
But at least I'm looking super— (Cut!)
I act like I don't give a damn
But I'm breaking down even if I don't look like I am
You'rе lucky my eyes wander to you whеn I'm in a slam
You're lucky you're the one I call my man
You're lucky that I act like a fan
You're lucky, let's just leave it at that
And I don't expect you to snap back
But could you act like you give a rat's ass?
Did I fall for a half-year death trap?

[Chorus]
I wasn't worried 'bout nothin' at eight years old
Now I'm on my hands and knees beggin' to be sold
It's no longer a, "Who for?," it's, "When will I fold?"
I know I'm a mess, I don't need to be told

[Outro]
How can you be so stoic?
How can you be so nonchalant?
I'm the only one who knows it
But you're the only one I want