Ouroboros Spine some kind of

Normally he would have stood now, to form some semblance of vague defence against the stranger, but weakness from hunger and lack of muse had him rooted to the spot. Said stranger was a dashing, swarthy passer-by, and sadly not one who brought song to his lips from the get-go. Not expecting, old bean, he admitted. Hoping.

He sighed dramatically and then put a question to the male: do you sing?