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