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