Creatures of the Dust
Will we meet again in the afterlife?
When the clock starts ticking in the out of time
Our fate would be a date on a standing stone
And some sorrowful remains of left out bones
Will our dreams prevail In this turning world?
And the plans we set give us rest
Our skin has soaked the sun, for many years
And we did enjoy the feasts and bathed in shades
We are made to live
We are born to die
We are creatures of the dust
Desperate hopes and fears
Of every walking soul
Is searching for an answer
Siamo creature della polvere...