Art Official

Retracing my steps in hopes to find

Some part of me that may be somewhere left behind

There's a fear

there's a point

there is a problem

What if what I find won't solve any of them

And I wonder why I have no motivation

I guess I just answered my own question

I'm not the golden boy so don't shine me on

I'm the bastard son of romantic babylon

With veins that are all fashioned out of copper

A past design not destined to be concurred

But like anything there is a flaw inscripted deep

That may explain everything