As the Vultures Circle - Those Who Lie Beneath

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?