River Of Stix

In my final hour, only the Lord'll know where I'll be,
I only hope that my soul won't be lost in the breeze.

Always dreamt that I would have my head shot off,
Brains blown away, not just some random shot.

Angered enough people that I know my days are numbered,
Can't allow my mind to dwell of these thoughts of being murdered.

Dreading the day, but not fearing my fate,
With the reaper, I know I hold and inevitable date.

Wondering who will pull the deadly trigger,
Hopefully it won't also be my grave digger.

If it is, I pray that they bury me deep,
That way I can cross the River of Stix , to eternal sleep.