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