A cyclops has a second eye
He hides down deep inside,
So he can see himself
From every single side.

A cyclops has a third eye
For staring down the past,
His fourth eye’s on the future
To see unto the last.

That fifth eye is the one you see
Staring back and maybe through
Those biting eyes of yours
That glare back right on cue.

His first eye’s looking out
The eyes of others like a ghost
To know the lives that others live
At their noble post.

So when they tell you of the cyclops
And his single, mighty eye,
Tell them Clopse has many more
Than we ever seem to spy.

And if they tell you you’re just silly
And to leave the tale to them,
Close one eye and point out
That silly don’t mean dumb.