A Quote by Don McLean

Work my hands in the soil, what's the pay for all the toil? Dust for blood, dust for blood, dust for blood. — © Don McLean
Work my hands in the soil, what's the pay for all the toil? Dust for blood, dust for blood, dust for blood.
Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.
Earth, Ashes to ashes and dust to dust in mother earth we place our trust and as we cycle through our years we water it with blood and tears.
Trail dust is thicker'n blood.
But when the dust has drunk the blood of men, no resurrection comes for one who's dead.
I drive a car till it turns to dust, then I sweep up the dust and ride on the dust.
True lovers earn their genius in schools of blood, prophecy and dust.
Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour? What tho' we wade in Wealth, or soar in Fame? Earth's highest station ends in 'Here he lies;' and 'Dust to dust' concludes the noblest songs.
Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We are nothing, but dust and to dust we shall return. Amen.
Blood moon risin' in a sky of black dust, tell me baby, who do you trust?
Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.
There's only three major elements. Air, land, which is your flesh and water, which is your blood. You're walking on a third of yourself. She's called Mother Earth. She gave birth to your ass. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, your maggot food ass going right back to her!
It is true that we are made of dust. And the world is also made of dust. But the dust has motes rising.
We have seen that blood united to blood in the case of but remotely connected species of animals, kills; blood united to blood in the case of more closely allied species of animals does not kill. The physical organism of man survives when strange blood comes in contact with strange blood, ... but clairvoyant power perishes under the influence of this mixing of blood, or exogamy.
The soul, which is spirit, can not dwell in dust; it is carried along to dwell in the blood.
Ford carried on counting quietly. This is about the most aggressive thing you can do to a computer, the equivalent of going up to a human being and saying "Blood...blood...blood...blood...
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