
A medium coffee, the price of freedom
Time to wander His pages
The Man who knows her most.
Each sentence, another step
Each word, another whisper
Each letter, another . . . .
Where is she?
Not just a city coffeeshop, no
A windswept moor and He is standing there
Her everything beckons,
Take me, farther away, she whispers
Farther away, take me
