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Long ago people who lived They gather them stones They believed in our mother earth And the gods below
In their dark age they loved the sun And they cried to the moon They lived their life in a primitive way When hunting was not for fun
Nowadays we don't hunt any more We've got colour TV But some people gather them stones, again While I cry to the moon
What is wisdom nowadays? Or is it a state of mind The attraction of these stones Is it me that I find
Nowadays we don't hunt any more We've got colour TV But some people gather them stones, again While I cry to the moon
Well if you've got time to spend Lay your hands on the stones Some of their magic will flow into your mind And you'll never be the same!
Nowadays we don't hunt any more We've got colour TV But some people gather them stones, again While I cry to the moon
They where gathering stones Took them out from everywhere They gather them stones, Build a home for the dead to rest, so they don't lest To make a new start in another land we can't understand
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