Simon's selective memory

I do not know him

i. i did not hear his name
iiiclamored by the multitude –
iiiit should be another man
iiithey welcomed merrily
iiion the street with the greenest palms
iiiwaved left to right
iiiby their eager arms

ii. that was the face
iiiiii did not remember
iiiiiof the man to my left
iiiiiwho took bread
iiiiiand a cup of his blood -
iiiiiit must be another man
iiiiiwhose life would be given
iiiiiup for us disciples
iiiiiand mankind

iii. those were not the hands
iiiiithat stretched out
iiiiito catch me on the sea
iiiiiwhen i almost drowned
iiiiibecause of my fear
iiiiiwhen the boisterous winds blew –
iiiiinor was he the one
iiiiiwho came to the docks
iiiiito call forth on his journey
iiiiimaking me his right hand
iiiiiand christening me finally to
iiiiiPeter the Rock

because I have to.

(The cock crows.)