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STIGMAN FLESH | A John Schmitz Original Song

STIGMAN FLESH | A John Schmitz Original Song Images created with ChatGPT Stigman Flesh Copyright 2025 John Patrick Schmitz Holy marks on the head of a cat Can't believe I forgot about that Searching the depths of your vocal range Watching my hands interchange That above may not mean much But the following story will reach and touch It's about a man who worked a guitar But not like the others he played so bizarre He strummed chords that no one knew He made plenty of noise but he left no clues The music he played sounded so fresh He goes by the name of Stigman Flesh Born on a day a long time ago From that day on he began to grow He drifted on through years of school He always made The Man a fool College was such a grind He explored the accesses of mankind He joined an insane hippie choir And grew his face so long like wire He advanced on from there To a band of classical flair Saving cash from his job at the bar He bought an amp and electric guitar He was washed into the world of surrealist rock The establishment he began to mock He couldn't tell up from down With the drugs he took he never touched the ground Psychodelics were what his songs were based But now his body began to waste His face looked like barbed wire mesh That's why his name is Stigman Flesh His guitar took him on a tour of the world But his six-string never let him hold a girl Them strings had him wrapped so tight He could never ever ever ever put up a fight He's old now his beard is gray He doesn't know what to say He sits on a bench feeding the birds His mind is blank he's lost all his words This song was about a man who played a guitar Though it may seem he didn't get very far To you he may seem like a freaked out mess But to me he'll always be Stigman Flesh