You’re trapped in your own mind,
And there’s no way for you
To ever break out of the shackles
You custom-made to fit yourself.
And you see things so clearly—
Things that are not there,
But they are there, they really are,
Yet no one will ever believe you.
Life feels like a winding staircase
That leads to trapdoors and dead ends;
The steps fall down from under you,
And you tumble into never-ending darkness.
This is a permanent routine—
One you simply cannot avoid,
But even if you had a chance to run,
Would you try to escape?