The Song and Sands of Time.
No one hears.
Now you may sing your selfsong,
Let something come from the nothing.
Let the wind carry The Song and sand
from the breast of man.
And from that sand your body came!
Beating is the stone.
A Song in the desert.
Feel the beat of faceless wandering,
and pondering,
Whispers beyond a phrase of fire.
Rhythm imprisoned in the heart of night.
Let the wind carry the sand,
let your voices rise,
and fall,
to the Song
and sands of time.