Your Work is Over

Flute on a hillside echoes

real like the wind is rushin

rest my head on a pillow

your work is over

Free of mountainous wanting

the mountain is a piece of straw blown away

these words fall out the window

your work is over

You are my sweetest lover

so I crawl toward your whisper

on the edge of everything, stunning seduction

Freedom is like this

freedom looks like this

freedom feels like this, just like this