Life on the road

It’s really not that great being like me.
You may think it is but you are wrong.
You say that I have everything.
I have nothing.
Nothing that matters anyway.
The clothes I wear don’t mean anything.
But they mean so much to you.
This is why I hand them over.
I do not need them.
I don’t understand why you look at me that way.
I’m not pretty, not like that anyway.
All I have is two drumsticks.
And a battered set of drums.
But nobodies there to hear them.
Nobody hears a sound.
You listen to me.
But don’t hear what I say.
You’ll never understand what its like.
I have my music.
I achieved it in the end.
But it’s awfully lonely sat here.
When you look at me I know what you see.
But that’s not me.
I envy you for the way you live.
So simple, so easy.
So happy.
That’s how I want it.
But I’ll never give up the music,
No, it means too much to me.
But I’ll do anything for happiness.
Anything, so I can feel it once again