Was he badly mistaken or guided

As he wondered his valley built in silence

He'd cover his face to speak as he chewed off his finger, to the bone

The haze of his coloured days

That march of content as his dignity splits to unveil

His bitter sweetness.

The town would shudder and stare

At his presence with a single glare

As he makes his way through

The local square

And he says to them

'your a broken fence, in the yard of annoyance'

'your a broken fence, in the yard of annoyance'

Annoyance.

Hang the cyst

Hang the cyst

Hang the cyst.

The first time in pace or in math

Was at the sight of his wilting noose

And the chance will soon reduce to an angry silence

He escaped in the shock of the snap

His wonderful vanishing act

Was a spectacle but not what anyone expected

The route was planned as much as the broachpin dagger

The route was planned as much as the broachpin dagger.

Catch the cyst

Catch the cyst

Catch the cyst.