Prophecy Gun - Yeasayer

You hear the calling, You want to spread the word

Your prophecy gun’s crying to be heard

You must not know my lack of devotion

Don’t want your white clouds, Celibate oceans

The sky is falling, Into the world to come

Abraham’s bosom can’t include everyone

So while you dream of Blonde Eschatology

Ezekiel’s sermons seem so unreal to me