Dust کے بول

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