How can I trust what is not seen by eyes?
Is it my faith or am I just blind?
Always so scared of the end of my days.
Searching for truth as I enter the grave.
Growing so old, closer to death.
This heavy weight pressing my chest.
Thinking it through every day.
Dreams of myself rotting away.
What will I see?
Where will I be?
I'm just a man who's begging to see.
I'm just a man, so broken and weak.
With only days left, clinging to life.
There's only one thing plaguing my mind.
What happens to me when I die?
What will I see on the other side?
What happens to me when I die?
What will I see on the other side?
Forgive me. Take me to the light.
Is it death? Is it life?
I'm afraid of the other side.