Dear John

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