In the green fields of France
on a hot summer's day
we sip fruity saison
and roll in the hay
reading Maupassant
the loft of a forgotten farmhouse
far away....

In the evening
under the bright stars
the fresh cut grass
hangs in the air like a heavenly perfume
and the thrill of the night
is cloaked in an earthly chill
our bodies baptized in sweat
heathens
we bask in the glory of the galaxy
the feast of flesh
pure ecstasy