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He was a poor man, though he was genius |
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Would they listen to this crazy man |
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Would they help him to his end |
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He was a tall man, pale skin and broken back |
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And no-one knew him, though he was genius |
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They feared him, locked him away |
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And in silence would he pray |
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He lived alone, though many voices spoke |
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He found peace, in his own little world |
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So they beat him, to his end |
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He lays forgotten |
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Dead skin and broken neck |
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And no-one knew him |
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Though he was genius |
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Who was he, that crazy man |
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Just a loser, to the end |
