MAYBE THEY'RE RIGHT

Doubt never arrives screaming. It slips through the cracks like cold air beneath a locked door, wearing the shape of a familiar voice. A single question becomes a wound and a wound becomes a doorway. This song wanders through the moment self-belief begins to surrender to judgment. Not the judgment of others, but your own. Because darkness rarely conquers the mind by force. More often, it waits patiently for permission to enter. And sometimes, permission sounds like: Maybe they're right - DEAD