Supposed to Be

I'm waiting for a word
To feel different from the others I've heard
I'm tired of my voice
But I'm bound to it, and these are my choices
It's endless, this debate
The misapplied philosophy, the shadows in the cave
The two dogs at my feet
And I decide which one will die--who starves and who eats
The more I sit and stare, they look the same to me
They offer up a bleeding question in their teeth
And I'm surprised when it's my voice that speaks:
"What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be now?"
Then it's quiet and I'm alone
And indifferent to the things I can't know
I've exhausted my interest
In the contradicting plates in me--their struggle and shift
And I'm sorry for the mess
To you, for sure; her, even more; myself most, I guess
See, once the bells that rang throughout my hangar head
They cautioned me awake: "We thought that you were dead!
Go testify your fundamental need!"
"What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be now?"
"What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be now?"
Pirouette the waltz across the tightrope tied
Between the poles you asked to colonize your mind:
The life you want; the life you likely need
"What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be now?"
"What am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be now?"
Now that I can see
What I'm supposed to be now