Passing Away

I’m passing over, passing away, crossing the borderline. All so bloodless, all so clean, and it’s nothing like death is to me. And there’s blood on my hands and there’s blood on my face and there’s blood and there’s blood and there’s pain. And why did I do it and why did I cry and why did you shoot me now? Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, I’m dying and I’m passing away. One of the fallen, one of the sleeping, one of the heroes dead. Those words so clean, so painless, but still the fact remains...

I was shot and now I’m dead and it's more painful than they said.