Someone Else’s Drummer

I saw my shrink today
and pronounced myself cured
I came home tonight
understanding what that meant

Cured of trying to REASON you out of my thoughts
Cured of believing I’ll ever stop caring
Cured of the hope – even the dream
That someday we’ll find a way

Gone is the hope
But not the yearning
My dream has faded
while desire grows and need persists

And so the struggle continues,
once more behind a mocking mask
projecting rational thoughts,
trying to fool the world.

How many of us
live our lives pretending,
marching to the beat
of someone else’s drummer?