A Dying Breed

I was the seventies
was a tree, a dying breed
I was a falling star
and the mind of the mountain reigned over me
I was a woman
I was a good looking man
and the mind of the mountain reigned
What is this world of mine
When’s the last time I cried
All that I’ve ever had is gone
I was the seventies
I had innocent dream
I was a shooting star
and the mind of the mountains reigned
what is this world of mine
when’s the last time I cried
All that I’ve ever had is gone.