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