He used to hug them all
And could spot right from wrong
Fairness was His sixth sense
And it poured from him so smoothly
And we all could count on him
To pour velvet from the mouth
At just the right time
Such that the room would coo
Such that the tide would turn

But now the job builds walls
Not from heart but from space
He doesn’t always know
Who sits on right – Who sits on wrong
So he needs an inner sense
An old tool out of the belt
At just the right time
The gaze that reads the room
The gaze that knows the soul

He knows who hung the moon
Quite well and he’ll do fine
Cause any lack can soar
On the arrow of an archer
And history will hold him
As one who knew no mire
At just the right time
He will become known by
He will become known for