He hears his friends called shallow infidels
Sees the vices they've naively held
He looks at their faces
And loves them in spite of himself

When he sees the dark shadows they've thrown
And their recklessness cuts him to the bone
He looks at their faces
Refusing to throw the first stone

This simple thing that some call grace
Suffers abandon and loss in their wakes
It lies unrecognized as wealth
Deep in their bones it must someday prevail

When they talk behind his back in conceit
And deny what a true friend he must be
He looks at their faces
And loves them in spite of his grief

This simple thing that some call grace
Suffers abandon and loss in their wakes
It lies unrecognized as wealth
Deep in their bones it must someday prevail

When they don't understand his concern
And his gestures remain unreturned
He looks at their faces
And loves them
And knows it's not absurd