How can it be that sorrow is all I feel? To shut off all that’s real To play the role yearning for applause Worth judged only by accolades accorded me Oh woe is me the drama queen Something, any little hint that I am not alone The little box I’ve built for me Is long since just debris Now when I feel And when I move and it seems so real I crash and burn on waxen wing To the delight of Ra, the bitter king Vane and pitiful, Hopeless, lost So sorry for myself Hiding in the smiles and jokes Afraid to face the cost Where is balance, where is centre The place where truth lies Just before it dies The search for help not quick enough Another symptom of dire disease Afraid to stand So much easier with head in sand