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