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What is this new sensation?
What is it that I feel?
What's this sudden lack of breath?
Tell me, is this real?

I've never felt this way before.
So what does it all mean?
Dictionaries call it "guilt,"
But it's a cross for me.

My cross, you hear! My cross to bear!
It's mine, without a doubt!
Iscariot could carry it,
But look how he turned out.

I only wanted him to die,
But, oh, the penalty!
This can't be good, no, not at all.
This can't be good for me!

He's dead! He's gone! He's out of here!
He's spent! He is no more!
The bullet went right through his head,
And then he hit the floor.

Something has gone wrong, I say!
Something's just not right!
Something tells me that he will be
Staying here tonight.

Am I to sit here, waiting for
This guilt to pass me by?
Am I to wait forevermore
Or say my last goodbye?

I killed another fellow man,
So why should I be here?
Why should I, the guilty one,
Be forced to persevere?

Death would bring me some relief,
A sedative for crime.
I better hurry up and choose,
'Cause I don't have much time.

The cops are pulling up outside.
It's time to make a choice.
To join my fellow man in death
Or hear the judge's voice.

The punishment should fit the crime,
At least, that's what they say.
So I could either die next week
Or I could die today.

I'm not afraid of dying.
There's just no reason for it.
Anytime will do just fine.
So why am I waiting for it?

Funny thing to know that there is
One more bullet here.
Maybe fate had different plans
For this old pioneer.

Alright, God, I'm coming up!
Make room for me up there!

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