Knowing you are going to die
Is a hard thing accepted at first
Laying in a pool of your own fucking blood
As the vultures circle over your fucking head

With a bullet in your gut
This is a slow and painful death
Millions of things run through your mind
Too many "what ifs?" to count

As I lay in a pool of a blood, I can't help but think,
Will I be remembered? The answer is; probably not
I try to make it to my feet to no prevail

EVERYTHING IS GOING BLACK

EVERYTHING IS GOING BLACK

I think I have died only to wake up
As if this is some sort of sick fucking joke
This is not a dream, still bleeding
Still filled with all of this pain

TRYING TO MOVE TO MY FEET, I DO NOT PREVAIL

I watch as the vultures circle over my head
Life blurs as I try to make things out Yelling will do me no good,
So I lay and wait for fucking death

I watch as the vultures circle over my head
Yelling will do me no good, so I lay and wait for death
As I lay in a pool of blood, I can't help but think,
Will I be remembered? The answer is; probably not
I try to make it to my feet; I do not prevail

Life blurs as I try to make everything out
Yelling will do me no fucking good,
So I lay and wait for death

When I die, will I go anywhere?
Or am I doomed to sit and fucking rot?