The Maze or the Straight Line

Lyrics

[Intro]
Gouffre Mirolda. Seventeen hundred meters down.
Where the cows graze above the dark.
Twelve degrees, always.
This is where you left it.

[Verse 1]
Cardboard, warped with the damp.
The ink has bled a little.
Hand-drawn squares, a path that doubles back on itself.
The dice are made of wood, the corners worn smooth.
And the pieces… a thimble, a bottle cap, a little green plastic soldier, a button from a winter coat.
A whole family, sitting in a box.

[Chorus]
Straight Line Steve, they called you.
You, the maze-maker.
You design the elegant problems, the clean escapes.
So tell me, Steve.
Is a life the maze you draw for strangers?
Or is it this crooked, ridiculous path, full of penalty squares and lucky breaks, that you drew for yourself?

[Verse 2]
I can almost read the spaces.
“The Burnt Toast Fiasco of 1993, Go Back to Start.”
“You Remembered Mom’s Birthday, Advance Three Spaces.”
“The Dog Ate the Homework, Lose a Turn.”
These aren't rules, they're memories.
A private language sealed in a cave that was only fully mapped in 2003.
A whole universe of laughter, buried under limestone.

[Chorus]
Straight Line Steve, they called you.
You, the maze-maker.
You design the elegant problems, the clean escapes.
So tell me, Steve.
Is a life the maze you draw for strangers?
Or is it this crooked, ridiculous path, full of penalty squares and lucky breaks, that you drew for yourself?

[Bridge]
You spent your days making logical traps.
One entrance, one exit.
A puzzle with an answer.
But this game… there's no clear win.
The path just goes around and around.
Did you bring it down here to solve it?
To find the one straight line through all the joy and all the noise?
Or did you leave it because you knew there isn't one?

[Outro]
The thimble waits on the starting square.
The dice are quiet in my hand.
Up above, the sun is on the meadow.
Down here… only the drip.
And the dark.
And the question.