I saws the posters popping up around the city
Pale blue and washed-out red
I went down to the arena pushing through
Hoping I’d run into you

Sweet freshly-scrubbed smell of the crowd
All the excitement in their eyes
We were all made young when he stepped onto the stage
Like an animal escaping from his cage

Raise the trumpet
Sound the drum
He whom the prophets spoke of long ago has come

All of us too dazed to leave when it was over
Dawdled by the vendors for a minute
Gathered underneath a summer sky
I was hoping you’d pass by

But though I didn’t see you that day, or the next
I’m pretty sure that you were there
Making your way along the young and happy horde
Headed down to your reward

Raise the trumpet
Sound the drum
He whom the prophets spoke of long ago has come

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