Lyrics

Who will the victors be seventy years from now?
I'm making a market to answer this question that troubles my troublesome mind
It's hard to make choices without knowing what's the last line
Every decision depends upon knowing how writers of history will hate or adore me and prove my injustice was blind

Should I go south, should I go sideways?
Who's to say if I should go any old where?
From my point of view it seems likely that every direction I take will be taken by you to be something it's not and that's why all I've got is the familiar feeling you will think that I'm doing it wrong

Write what you will about me
It's alright by me
I try to ignore the comments section
I tire when I try to read
I'm playing along for the long haul
Resting my feet and my head
I'm planning to be my own ghost writer
Long after I have been dead

When I was younger I longed for the free open road
I thought every fork was a chance at adventure and that nothing could ever go wrong
But now I've concluded that best bets are laid with the strong
I'm banking on gambling everything I've ever done on the hopes that you'll hopefully learn from this song

Write what you will about me
It's alright by me
I try to ignore the comments section
I get tired when I try to read
I'm playing along for the long haul
Resting my feet and my head
I'm planning to be my own ghost writer
Long after I have been dead

Should I go south, should I go sideways?
Who's to say if I should go any old where?
From my point of view it seems likely that every direction I take will be taken by you to be something it's not and that's why all I've got is the familiar feeling you will think that I'm doing it wrong

Write what you will about me
It's alright by me
I try to ignore the comments section
I get tired when I try to read
I'm playing along for the long haul
Resting my feet and my head
I'm planning to be my own ghost writer
Long after I have been dead