I don't know what's gotten into him--
He's heard the voice of some unknown
mysterious deity, a god we've heard
rumors of from the ancient days, but
He's not one we know. This god shows
up like a stranger at our door,
and so we have to take him in, I guess.
But hospitality can only go so far,
and yet here we are,
packing up our house for him
to follow him out into nowhere.
But we go, we go, and I go because
of some strange sprout of hope in my heart,
a sprout that might just grow up into
some mighty tree,
because maybe, just maybe,
our name will live on,
and maybe, just maybe,
this promise, this Stranger,
is even better.