Oh, my Lord! Thee in Thy wisdom made me sick
Sick with the decease deadly, misfortune thick
Despite my habits clean and life regular
Made me suffer with the decease and Doctor!
Fleecing Doctors prescribing drugs in dozen
Throwing to the winds ethics of profession
My pain and sufferings make my kith and kin
Suffer in silence, day and night, going thin!
Oh, My Lord! Kind and compassionate, please guide
Me to a Doctor kind and nice who can aid
With words sweet, face and look and a Midas touch
Which can cure me faster than his drugs very much!
Money apart, mental agony quite sharp
Lord of Lords, God of health! Please let me not harp
On the travails I traverse, help me come out
Of the pain and sufferings or send me out!
Out of the decease and doctor, take me
To Thy care, out of this world, to be with Thee
Enough I have enjoyed and suffered the world
I have the mind and strength to leave this life bold!