I'm approaching a split up road
Don't know which way my feet will go
Suppose I wan't success, but I don't understand
What it means to be a successful man.
Miles away from home, rolling on
In no definite direction
I'm curious to see where my instincts take me.
Like the work-savy businessman
Don't know what grade his kids are in
Filthy rich but he, he's a fucking wreck
I don't think that this constitutes success
I am patient cause, life is long
Waiting for that train to get on
If it doesn't show I won't regret waiting.
Screw direction, travel randomly
Never question your true feelings they'll be
The only indicator of who you are
Sometimes the trip is better than the vacation.
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