Текст песни 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.
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