When I have died
I might arrive
Of heavens good and well
Or sit outside the blacked gates
To rot my soul in hell
Unsure I am
Which way I’ll go
When I am laid to rest
But I know one thing,
That thing is this,
I’ll live my life the best
And throw away my
Withered sins, the church
Has claimed are rotten,
For where I go
I shall not know
Yet I well not be forgotten
