Well you're a doomsday prophet when you happen to be
You only tell the truth
And if you see a boon, you want to howl at the moon
And shout it from the roof
But like the man of grace in his native place
There's no ear for the song you sing
So what's the point of knowing what tomorrow may bring
If nobody's listening

The stock market will crash in a pile of ash
For sure October twelfth
But just like Stevie Nicks who’s up to her witchy tricks
Just keep your visions to yourself
Cause even if you tell everybody to sell
They will not save their skin
What's the point of knowing what tomorrow may bring
If nobody's listening

There's no elation in prognostication
If it won't do a lick of good
You know for sure and your intentions are pure
But everyone you know is still knocking on wood

A modern day Cassandra, you see everything clearly
But no one takes your word
Apollo's sycophants misunderstanding your rants
back-peddling once (it’s) occurred
Things could be worse, at least you know it first
but that doesn’t soothe the sting
Cause what's the point of knowing what tomorrow may bring
If nobody's listening