TIMBALAND: "The Way I Are"

Nothing more than a little clay statue
In a lightless hollow gallery
Hidden in a forgotten corner
Of a remote museum of history

I have no purpose
Than merely be there
Out, everywhere nor nowhere,
just somewhere

No need for a spotlight
To make me look different than what I am
No need for a guide
To explain all but anything

I am just here
For those who want to see
How an artist made me to be

Some rare creation of the past
Maybe…
But uniqueness will last
- you’ll see -
For empty words are spoken
Promises are broken
In a world full of emptiness
Always more, never less
Nonetheless
I strive to survive
Complex in my simplicity
Silent in complicity
Credible by authenticity
Ever shying away from publicity
For this forgotten corner
Of a remote museum of history
Where, in a lightless hollow gallery,
I am nothing more than a little clay statue
For those who want to see