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