Cyrus from winterized by abbey ness

No one knows how Cyrus died
on that hazy August night.
Found his skin a purple hue
wrapped up in the summer dew,
wrapped up in the summer dew.

No one knows how Cyrus died.
Found him on the hill outside
with a notebook in his hand.
Cyrus was a gentle man.

I remember, very well,
rollin' down that grassy hill,
making light of all our plans,
actin' like we had a chance,
actin' like we had a chance.

When the Army calls your name,
who will bow their head in shame?
Not the orphaned or the poor,
with whose blood we wage our wars.

I remember clear as day
when my Cyrus sailed away.
Raised his hat up to the sky,
ready for his chance to fight,
ready for his chance to fight.

Wasn't country that took his life,
it was the demons in his mind.
Teach a young man how to fire,
but how to kill without dying?
How to kill without dying?

Well, we all know how Cyrus died.
Found him on the hill outside,
with a pistol in his hand.
Cyrus was a tortured man.

All his things came in a bag,
and his casket in a flag.
Lookin' sharp in Army blue,
finest clothes he ever knew,
finest clothes he ever knew.

• Folk
• dark folk
• indie folk
• singer-songwriter
• Charlottesville