turn to dust

keep your beady eyes on me, to make sure i don't turn to dust, if fear is in the mind, then my mind lives in fear, as deep and as vast as the dirty british sea, keep your beady eyes on me, to make sure i don't turn to dust, there's paths to make the heart beat, and paths where i can skip, and a path to tread lightly with the clouds beneath my feet, when the light creeps from the blinds i dance in heaven, it's just old passing time, it rains dead weather, keep your beady eyes on me, to make sure i don't turn to dust