Cyno

He was an elite freak who's fleet flees to Greece
Asleep by the creek with his seat fleeced and greased
Pockets bleak, the pants his keys are in creased
Took earth from the meek and now his disease increased
Two stabs in the back from a kindred slither-man
Like he got a hug from Edward Scissorhands
Got it in his head that he was bred for bigger plans
Waited 'til he bled out the red into litre cans

Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up
Known to go alone
Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up

Panhandled across the land when he couldn't sell it
Each potential buyer said they couldn't stand to smell it
Hey, at least the streets of Crete are well lit
When he couldn't beat the heat and he felt lit
He'd get his hands on a sheet and a felt tip
If the scheme isn't clean and pristine then well, shit
The sheet gets split in a single fell rip
If a single spell is misspelled his lips let hell slip

Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up
Known to go alone
Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up

The need to feed precedes this one apple
Drop it in the mandible for the teeth to grapple
His body is a church and he just cleaned the chapel
Dressed all his sins in his Sistine apparel
Babbles in a barrel a good home for a cynic
Dazzled and baffled he's known to the clinic
Critical of his own monolithic gimmick
He used to have three names now he's mononymic

Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up
Known to go alone
Dog's head hoodie up
Frozen to the bone
Shoes are all scuffed up