(Brock / Calvert)
| our legends tell
| we came from a seed
| that travelled at
| a whirl-wind speed
| till it came to rest
| upon this land
| that once was green
| is now all sand;
|
| that buried us
| up to our eyes
| and made us watchers
| of the skies:
| till shadow-wings
| came for our sight
| and left us to
| conspire with night.
|
| -----------------
| Fable Of A Failed Race
| | Hawkwind |
|
|
|
