Come what may I heard him say from across the car park
Muttering something to a younger man that sounded like advice
They shook hands I was with a friend we both commented on the car
From somewhere in the background came the sound of someone running
We drove away and spoke about the night and how it looked like a stained glass window
You were the saint and I was the scribe and the light was deliberate
Inside a room full of people talking about themselves separated us for a time
Faces appeared from nowhere like a forgotten habit but they were too aware .
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