Dust
It creeps into everythingDUSTwelcome to the sand boxfine grit on your face in your shirton the march from post to the rivermarch on brothers over the next hillscarfs over noses and mouthsmarch on brothers marchstop in the dunes find shelterdrink up you blokes tip to your sun cracked lips dust wet dust in your throat old mustache move lads marchone foot ahead the otherdust fine grit covers march brothers till the dust blows away away to the river