The Stance of Evander Sinque

He was a poor man, though he was genius

Would they listen to this crazy man

Would they help him to his end

He was a tall man, pale skin and broken back

And no-one knew him, though he was genius

They feared him, locked him away

And in silence would he pray

He lived alone, though many voices spoke

He found peace, in his own little world

So they beat him, to his end

He lays forgotten

Dead skin and broken neck

And no-one knew him

Though he was genius

Who was he, that crazy man

Just a loser, to the end