If someone asks us where we are We will say we're on our way I'm watching rising points of dust Hit by early light of day Someone asked me to come by And someone asked if I'm okay A barking dog's kept my friends away And I'm pleasantly keeping the time at bay So if they ask you where you are Just pretend you're on your way We'll sit here listening to marks of time: The pulse, the breathing in rhythmic lines And when they turn into funeral bells Surely we'll have faces still In picture frames with frozen smiles Where dust settles in tiny piles