El and Gil

Can you tell the difference between truth and falsehood, good and evil? Do you know the difference?

El and Gil rode into town on a silver morning. The old moustaches turned to see. She ancient and fresh pert and weathered He with rainbow tassels that reminded of the flood El and Gil looked in their periphery Took in the city and its people The whole and its detail And embraced it all She’s seen it all before and knows it Therein lies her strange beauty She saw the desert and its ghosts The fear and humiliation The mob boss hostility In the eyes of those old men at that cafe Coffee dripping from their whiskers He could barely control himself So old Gil let those dyed strands run through his fingers and continued on his trial And towards the center they passed They moved deeper through the town’s concentric rings Built upon layers of its own ash He sensed the treasure buried all around them His burden now a gift The rewards of his trial near to him The holy pleasures of this world sanctified She saw the currents Some flowing down some flowing up She saw small moments of humility and grace Like sparkling light glinting rom a river And towards the center they passed It’s high noon and they move into the town’s center By this time they’ve attracted the attention of more than a few small children Who have surreptitiously followed the strange pair from a distance As the children approached, El and Gil understood their situation A cry went up through the town “Where have our children gone?” And soon the frightened parents were upon them Strange days are here upon us my friend When who can tell real from what is pretend While some engage in righteous conflict Others struggle to transcend Oh what do these strange days portend? The lion is courage The lamb is humility With a mane made of wool And the shepherd infinity A new strange beast will lie with them there Who looks through a window and sees through a mirror These lions of spirit roar only for love For they see down below what’s been hidden above And now the parched trickle may flow with enough When the strange beast arises inside each of us

Written by

Ezra Ben-Shalom, Chris Carlson

Produced by

Ezra Ben-Shalom, Chris Carlson

Mixed by

Ezra Ben-Shalom, Jamie Sitar

Mastered by

Jamie Sitar