In the Footsteps of the Lizard King
i havent followed them yet
but i will explore his path through the flowers
his garden growing fresh with exotic specimen
he slithers to my ears and his hiss is my music
a long passed career of conspiracy
he walks among us still
on the beaches with a silver moon
living in the caves of or souls
finding refuge from a critical world
in the small caverns of records and tapes
they say he sold his soul
but didnt they all?
dont get me wrong this isnt sympathy
just respect for a fallen king
he slithers still
and he tells tales of passed loves
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