Where will I go When I die? Will I go under Or will I fly? What is waiting Behind the door? Is there just darkness Or so much more? These are questions I ask myself, And then I put them Upon the shelf. And I figure Maybe one day, I'll pull the trigger, And blow away. While I'm loving you I'm hating me, And that's a bloody cold reality. I am someone no one else can see. I'm invisible.
Well alright. No solutions And no big breaks. It's just confusion And heartaches. But it don't matter A bit to me. 'Cause I ain't feeling What I can't see.
Repeat Chorus.
What do you say?
Where will I go When I die? Will I go under Or will I fly? And what is waiting Behind the door? Will there be darkness Or so much more?
