she was older lost connection lost that light above her head in all directions but she climbed that mountain and cried aloud like a marching drum sound your horns and heed your calling there is work to be done there is work to be done we re all just dust to glory there is work to be done there is work to be done bow your head to the mission story he couldn t see it but he heard it she saw him struggling with the symbols so she wrote it down she looked right through him and saw the shadows of the risen son cast your nets unto the ocean there is work to be done there is work to be done we re all just dust to glory there is work to be done there is work to be done bow your head to the mission story i remember when i borrowed all my healing from a stranger and i recall when i reached to the ocean like a soldier and the burning sun just made me colder and the hollow moon just made me older so i reached out of my body and the stars became a story and i bowed my head in glory as the story ends in one