Dust

I once wrote a book about two men

They went round the world and back again

One was Julian - one was me

Such a passion to be free

We watched UFOs from southern shores

back in 65 - or 64

This is memory; these are dreams

Only he knows what I mean

Everything returns to dust

And it all gets blown away

And we all get born again to live another day

And the dust gets blown away

I like counting stars on frosty nights

One million years go by to see that light

I dream of broken wings - I dream of dust

we are gold and we are dust

It's a shame to count the days - so many days

It's a shame to count the days - so many days

Everything returns to dust

And it all gets blown away

And we all get born again to live another day

And the dust gets blown away