LYRICS
Where are we going
With no one knowing
It must be some sort-of gag
Blindfolded and bagged
Shortcomings showing
We were to embark
Now just a thud in the dark
Where are we going
With no one knowing
“It must be some sort-of joke?”
The Grim Reaper spoke
Shortcomings growing
We were to set sail
Instead flail and bail
Where are we going
With no one knowing
It must be some sort-of hoax
When the truth cannot coax
Shortcomings flowing
We were to ride high
But chose to subside
Written and recorded at Lake Wynonah, PA
Chords: G F#m Dm Em / G Em / C D G Em
Instrumentation: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar