Have we forgotten dear old Father Time
Silent, ever still, with his hourglass divine
How we’ve neglected poor mother nature
With greed and hatred and nomenclature

The fish with its scales, the Lords of Karma
Aquarian tales of the Age of Dharma
Like wildfire on a winding path
We’re running away when there’s no turning back

You search for me yet find yourself
Upon these shores we fray and welt
Unto the few who overstand
There are footprints in the sand