I could sit and laugh as you stumble down the hall,
I could smile at all the times you hit wall after wall.

You see the picture and think you’ve got it figured out,
But when you find another dead end, you realize it was only another bout.      

I’m the perfect artist, painting perfect pictures on my walls,
Just when you think you’ve found the real exit again, everything falls.

I’d chuckle at your troubles but I’m discovering my own plight,
I’ve painted so many exits, created so many lies; I can’t remember which is right.

You’re fed up and I’m getting scared, once again, it’s a dead end
You see this and I show that, neither of us knows if it’s after the next bend.

So I’ll run in my own maze, never finding the truth, only the fake,
I could sit and laugh, but I won’t because I’m about to fall and break.