Home for Christmas

You were baptizing in aenon’s sink
When the master received credit
You were ready to shrink in the background
And not jealously
You weren’t thinking
«That's my job» or «my identity»
Even your name
You didn’t forget that you came to Manage the campaign
And all this happened before prison-stay
Dancing girls and sharpened swords were heading your way
You declared his by oiling the saddle
And anointing our great king before he went to battle
That’s your name…
Dear John