One day I'll bite the dust. Leaving behind everything I believe in and trust. Scared if Christ doesn't have my soul then I'm lost. Worried I'll forever be trapped beneath Earth's crust. One day I'll be dead as a doornail. Stop at heaven's gate thinking if I lived right before I ring it's doorbell. Even when I know my bag of sins are as heavy as a dumbbell. I'll run out of hope, there won't be light at the end of the tunnel. One day I'll give up the ghost. Leaving behind people and things I loved the most. Not sure of how I'll account myself to the Lord of host. I'm not your favorite so how will my obituary get you engrossed?. One day I'll go to meet my maker. Would I be or not be punished for all the times I bickered?. Or times I flirted around so my friends would call me "heartbreaker"?. Or times I acted holy in front of my pastor when I'm just a faker?. One day I'll kick the bucket. The