Oh Bryan
What did you do back then?
Did you smoke?
Something of a little persuasion

You have forced me to love your story
A man without a job
Selling flowers
Double or nothing

Doubt be it you saved a marriage
A relationship perhaps
Or maybe you took advantage of
A drunk generous with a quid

But I still love your story
A man with no dream whatsoever
Or so it seemed
Until a backhoe chanced your interest

Long ago
And you stood there
By director John’s fire
And simply relived your past

A stroke of pure genius
You enthralled
You covered part of our own lifetimes
You saved our memories of wonderful days

And Michael worked you out
A jobless hippy at forty years of age
A meaningful job was his meant
But I still loved your story

And you were living in the time
A trance
As you spoke with conviction
We knew you were there

Your honesty got to me
A product of truth
A good man
Who sold flowers?