How warm was the pasture

He laid his brother's grave

Before all the city

Had taken its place



How was the poor banker

He laid his brother's grave

Before his own mother made



Eyes the window to someone

Now the window to sunlight

Eyes the window to someone



I wasn't the foolish one

Like marbles in bed

That pool to the place where someone had been



I worked for the banker

Who lied about his faith

To the priest who would bury

His brother in his grave



Eyes the window to someone

Now the window to sunlight

Eyes the window to someone



I wept for the banker

Whose brother sleeps in his grave

Whose mother paid off Jesus

He quietly makes his escape



–



I only grow older when I see his face