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