I heard of the beauty there
of the colored hair
and future freaks.
I heard of ballerinas in the streets
and boys like you
trying to find themselves.
You reckon you'll get lonely there?
I'd break my piggy bank
if it showed you I cared
We can travel the city
with six strings on our backs,
acting like we're not scared.
Even though we're scared as hell.
I could step on New York City
and scrape it on a beach
and that's where I'll find you.
next to the circus tents,
stands the main attraction
“Balancing act of the broken boy”
standing there is you
alone and afraid
holding on to dignity and pride
self-worth and meaning
talent and potential
******* and lies,

but not me.

Everything but me.