The heart of the Lizard King beats with every note
It speaks of a strange tongue and a banned tone

A vision of the future and past incarnations
A trip to the edges of creation

The Lizard King smiles, but it knows him not
He cries but the tears refuses to drop

18th generations of a pure blood race
The Lizard King offers the last chance to escape

Words of a lost soul that won't breed
Pain, pleasure and desires till the Lizard King fals asleep


Words Of Harfouchism

we were poor
but not deluded

and when
van morrisson's
"brown eyed girl"
comes on the radio on
that worn
old
brown rug
my brother and I
started tapping our feet
shaking our heads
to the music and
our sisters are smiling
at us and
our mother is laughing
at us

and all we needed was
laughter and love
a prayer and a song

turn up the radio

As he sits back he blows up the smoke
With one look the Lizard King penetrates your soul

A talk of dreams and projections
No ears to hear the King's interventions

A post prophet of freedom and anarchy
The room is crowded but the lizard king is lonely

Innate talent of mind alternance and substance abuse
Words speaking of a King and a noose

The Lizard King roars before shooting his final blend
The King closes his eyes as the crown falls to an infinite end

Words Of Harfouchism

i rather believe in angels
that men
who attribute themselves
a loss of free will
in order to just sell plastician’s extension
of what’s called life by the non-memorable
numberings in equal measure numbings
of what man isn’t given he chose neither devil’s tail
or angelic wings but the monkey’s *******!
and guided the 100m metres beyond marathon
for a measure of a chatty shadow allowing sepia
as proof of grey...
flip the ****** coin will you!
flip it!
ah... you won’t flip it...
i’ll marathon myself ready as audience +1 for
the tragedy of aeschylus... sad cosine exhausted...
sad because the fattened actors in numerology
expanded the fate of acting with the actor’s once taken
for plasticians of doning masks to later
adorning man with a fake sexuality on stage
as a forging of forgetting the sexuality of the feminine:
woman cannot fake her sexuality
man can with homosexuality...
but woman cannot fake her sexuality should
our reproduction be usurped and lost...
but isn’t that double homosexuality of
man usurping woman from faking her ***
by acting and...
ah crap... the proof came with inter-racial ***...
white girl met brown boy and sang about
a blue-eyed afghani girl in the verse of van morrisson
concerning the stranger who wasn’t a spaniard
but a scandinavian who wouldn’t return the love affair
of the stereotypical phrasing of a book material
to employ a little country in terms of how many metaphysical
spoons were sold counter to the number of soups slurred.