Slow Drip Lizard

Lizard hear the sound

Of a song that kicks

As it shivers in death

Tortured by a sense of humour

That razors up to slit your face

Lizards in the icicle shed

Skin of prophets falling down

Melted venom liquid notes

And honeyed poison on the ground

It was it was

They fall off the floor

And stick to the walls

Through walls of jet

With a spider-like step

And honeyed words

That glow in the dark

Lizard eyes tell of the past

Reflect upon the shattered glass

Frozen in the painful sound

Of burning words

On judgement day

Something brittle in the voice

Grew some wings and flew away

It was it was

They fall off the floor

And stick to the walls

Slow drip lizard