In shadows cloaked, The Stig does dwell,A sad little man, his...

In shadows cloaked, The Stig does dwell,A sad little man, his tale to tell.

With eyes that see no light or gleam,He drifts through life, a dismal dream.

Negativity his constant friend,In bitterness, he finds no end.

No laughter dances on his lips,Just sighs and groans, in sorrow's grips.

But in his heart, a flicker still,A tiny spark, against his will.

For even in the darkest night,A glimmer of hope can ignite.

So let us offer him a hand,To guide him from the barren land.

And show him kindness, pure and true,To help him find a brighter view.

For every sad little man named The Stig,Deserves a chance to dance and jig.

To cast aside his heavy cloak,And find the joy that he awoke.