Goodtime Boys
doubt
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Inescapable, undeniable
The ever looming question
What if Iâm wrong? Where will I go?
Nowhere to hide from myself
Where will I go?
Infinite answers, infinite mistakes to make
The absurdity of certainty
Restless in questions with endless paths to take
Restless in questions
Am I here? Is this real?
Until the end, when thereâs nothing to say
Ash in the wind, a faded grey stale body in a box
Dragged through the dirt by the ticking clock
Infinite answers, infinite mistakes to make
Restless in pieces
Endless paths to the same fate
Dragged through the dirt are the minds of men
Dragged through the dirt again and again till the end
Everything ends