Life is but a beating drum, that a drummer does command. As he walks down that winding road, the drum gripped tightly in his hand. In case his grip does loosen there is a strap around his neck, securing the drum to him as he walks that not so beaten path. His grip may loosen and strap may break some where along the road. A song his heart still will always hold. A song that sings of sadness, trouble, love and joy. The song that was created by a simple child's toy. It is certain now that soon the drummer shall fall, but it sound will always echo in heavens golden hall. The drumming soon will cease, but only for a time , for his song as touched another somewhere along the road. It is then certain that the strap will mend and the drummers grip will tighten as he carries on another not so beaten road. Life is but a beating drum, that a drummer does command. As he walks down that winding road, the drum gripped tightly in his hand.
