Rising and Falling Points of Dust

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