(Hammill)



Frozen moment, cold blood time:

the Iguana lady is saying goodbye.

She's not quite ready, she wants to stay,

she wants to be perfect, but not in the way.

He tries to be cautious, one more cigarette,

he wants to be open, but the time is

not yet.



They talk about poetry, life-stories too;

he wants to know if she keeps a pet or two.

She's into lizards, she's into snakes,

he's into trauma - still got the shakes

from a lady who only talked dogs and cats

making love in the alley - she thought like that....

So he doesn't notice he's falling in

to a change in colour of chameleon skin.



And the sun beats down on the baking earth

in the land where the lizards play.

And the tongues flick out - though they want to touch

all the words get in the way.

And it's you and me and it's he and she

and it's everything I say.



Frozen vision, deaf and dumb:

still trying to work out what I've become.

I tried to reach you, I tried to score,

I shot the bolt on the open door...

the secret reaction, base metal to gold,

and all I felt was my blood froze...

I walked on water - I was wearing skis -

and now the water must dance on me.



Anyway, for all that, will you dance with me?

will you dance with me?



And the sun beats down on the baking earth

in the land where the lizards play.

And they shed their skins and at last begin

to find colours for the day.

Will you dance with me?