I'm the sown seed on a dreary field

In the ground I'll rot for years

Sudden sunshine needed rain

Will grow plentiful of grain

Prophecies are all the same

Which boat gets first to the glade?

My boat's fast till rudder break

You hear the sound you pity me

And wonder how I still got here

Prophecies are all the same

As my harmonies embracing

Wounds are slowly healing

But you demand to know what I believe in

Not the preachers who taught me

Temples that haunt me

But I'll keep wondering why

Prophecies are all the same

What was once your favorite tree

Gets hewn down once in your way

Only the good framer sees

The treasure he'll make out of waste

Prophecies are all the same

As my harmonies embracing

Wounds are slowly healing

But you demand to know what I believe in

Not the preachers who taught me

Temples that haunt me

But I'll keep wondering why

Prophecies are all the same

Prophecies are all the same

Prophecies are all the same