To where my eyes travel
I see the old contemporary
But over the heels of history
Hills of mistery
Full of gravel.

That's hard to unravel
All this blurred atmosphere.

We can't chase after the sun
But we can meet over a dune,
Having soft strolls of fun
And kissing with lips attuned.

Are we getting so old,
That time is so bold
That can't jump of the beat?