CRYING LIKE CASSANDRA — for the oracle of the gods.

All the gods have been domesticated and Heaven is now overrated; And the churches, they all closed their doors, but you can take your complaints straight to the Lord — I try to still look with wonder on the world as the roses bloom and the riot van still plainly in view. Well, can you see me? I cannot see you. Everything I thought I knew has fallen out of view in this blindness I'm condemned to; Well, can you hear me? I cannot hear you. Every song I thought I knew, I've been deafened to and there's no one left to sing to.