Bones whisper, from the desert sand
They whisper from the ground we walk.
We dig them up, their stories told
Graveyards planted, bones of white
Long lost souls lay still at night.
Some will walk again, their day not done.
No help among the living
Their bones will call them back.
Fortuneteller bones in hand
Will tell what you need to hear.
In the end, bones will be
All that’s left of you and me…