Strelizia - Room Full of Doors
Well the architect's laughing, With a brush in his hand, Mapping out exits, That will never be planned. I walk through the gallery, Feeling quite proud, Of the choices I’m offered, Chuckling to myself. But the knob doesn't turn, And the wood doesn't creak, Like a mute conversation, No one can hear. When I touch the molding, And the paint starts to peel, Revealing the brickwork, Revealing the real. It’s a grand masquerade, It’s a carnival trick, Where the walls are too heavy, And the irony’s thick. The carpenter's gone, And he’s taken the stairs, Left me with no choice, But to stay right there. And I kept reaching for tomorrow, Like a drought that yearns for rain, In a palace filled with doors, Where every exit ends the same. The trick is the amount of choices, And how real they make them all feel! But every door that I walked up to, Was just an illusion, time revealed. I used to blame my hands, For failing every lock, Now I see the deception, A facade beneath my knock. Pressed my ear against the plaster, I heard my own pulse, What a terrible way, To learn the next door was false. The handles look real, But it's just a trick of the light, I look around and I witness, My panic start to ignite. At first I thought, All I needed were keys, Now I'm ready to bargain, To beg on my knees. For a passage, a portal, A crack in the frame, But the entryways playing, A decorative game. Dozens of doors, An abundance of exits, But none can be opened, As I had expected. And I kept reaching for tomorrow, Like a drought that yearns for rain, In a palace filled with doors, Where every exit ends the same. The trick is the amount of choices, And how real they make them all feel! But every door that I walked up to, Was just an illusion, time revealed. Now I reach for more doorknobs, But my fingers hit walls, Looked like so many options, But there aren’t any here at all. The details are brushstrokes, The hinges are faux, I’ve got nowhere to stay, And I’ve got nowhere to go. I dash forward more erratically, With a bruised heart full of dreams, But every handle turns to nothing, My desperation grows extreme. As I go, From wall to wall, I see all these supposed portals, Were never openings at all. A mirage of options! Lining the walls, A gallery of thresholds, Where I can’t go. I thought I had choices, Between wood or the lead, But they’re both just drywall, To mess with my head. And I kept reaching for tomorrow, Like a drought that yearns for rain, In a palace filled with doors, Where every exit ends the same. The trick is the amount of choices, And how real they make them all feel! But every door that I walked up to, Was just an illusion, time revealed. Maybe hopes the cruelest painter, Maybe fear hangs every scene, Maybe we spend our lives believing, In places we’ve never even seen, Maybe freedom is a mural, Maybe choice is just delusion, Maybe that’s why I keep choosing, To be fooled by the same disguise, There's a hundred ways to leave here, And every one of them are lies! Possibilities advertised, Yet none were delivered, An abundance of fake options, Is its own kind of prison! And I kept reaching for tomorrow, Like a drought that yearns for rain, In a palace filled with doors, Where every exit ends the same. The trick is the amount of choices, And how real they make them all feel! But every door that I walked up to, Was just an illusion, time revealed. Not an entrance, But a dead end. Not a way through, A dead end. Not an exit, All dead ends. So I’ll sit in the center of your grand design. Tracing borders of the pigments and lines, It’s a beautiful room, it’s a masterful lie, But I’m looking for an exit not a place to wait to die. And I kept reaching for tomorrow, Like a drought that yearns for rain, In a palace filled with doors, Where every exit ends the same. The trick is the amount of choices, And how real they make them all feel! But every door that I walked up to, Was just an illusion, time revealed!

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