I.
Listen to the trumpets blast--
Golden trumpets!
What a sound of glory their music doth amass!
How they blare, blare, blare,
In the vibrant air of day!
While the hearts that beat faster,
All around, seem to master.
Golden trumpets, how they gleam,
In the hands of skillful players,
Who make them sing and shout and scream,
And fill the air with music sweet,
Oh how they bring us all together to meet,
With the rhythm of the fray;
Keeping beat, beat, beat,
In a sort of marching feat,
To the glitzy show that so powerfully swells
From the sounding and resounding of the trumpets’ spells,
Our hearts are captured by the music that compels.
Oh, Golden Trumpets, how you shine,
How you lift us up out of the mire,
How you fill our souls with the divine,
And set our hearts on fire!
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
Music rich and full of life that lifts the spirits high.
II.
In the streets they loudly blare--
Festive trumpets!
What a joyous sound their music doth declare!
How they play, play, play,
In the lively air of mirth!
Raise us up with their skill and flair.
Oh, the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets!
Their melody fills the air with glee,
And all around, people dance so free.
For in the trumpet's sound, there lies a beat,
A rhythm that moves the soul and feet.
While the people in the crowds
All around, dance and applaud
The triumph of their worth;
Keeping cheer, cheer, cheer,
In a sort of celebratory gear,
To the fanfare that so triumphantly swells,
Unlocking the gaiety of life's jubilant wells,
Of joy and laughter that knows no bounds,
Our spirits soar with the musical sounds.
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
From the reveling and rejoicing of the trumpets.
III.
From the lamenting and warning of the trumpets,
Amidst the chaos of war's fight--
Defiant trumpets!
What a call to arms their signal doth ignite!
How they rage, rage, rage,
In the tumultuous air of strife!
Their melody echoes through the battlefield,
Rhythm that soldiers wield.
With each note, the charge intensifies,
The trumpets' sound is a symbol of might.
Oh, the trumpets!
A proclamation of courage to the fight.
The soldiers, with valor, march on, on, on,
In unison with the trumpets' resounding song.
Their sound echoes with a commanding swell,
A call to arms, to fight and to quell.
The trumpets blaze on, on, on,
While the soldiers with vigor
All around, seem to holler
The battle cry of life.
For in the trumpet's melody lies their strength,
To push on through war's chaos, at any length.
Keeping courage, courage, courage,
In a sort of heroic homage,
With the warning and rallying of the trumpets.
To the trumpet's commanding swell,
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
The warning and rallying of the trumpets.
IV.
At the dawn of a new day's birth--
Resolute trumpets!
What a clarion call their melody brings to earth!
How they blaze, blaze, blaze,
With radiant mirth,
In the vibrant light of dawn!
The trumpets' sound is a call to inspire,
A challenge to rise and set hearts on fire,
The world is filled with promising surprises.
With each note, a new hope arises,
A reminder of strength, and a symbol of passion,
To embolden change for a future in action.
While the leaders and the people,
All around, seem to rally,
For the hope of a new tomorrow;
Keeping faith, faith, faith,
With no sorrow,
In a sort of steadfast embrace,
To the trumpet's resounding grace,
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
From the rousing and awakening of the trumpets.
V.
Down below the earth they sing--
Mournful trumpets!
What a dirge of sorrow their melody doth bring!
How they weep, weep, weep,
In the somber air of the deep!
While the mourners in sadness
All around, seem to harness
The sadness of their plight;
Keeping grief, grief, grief,
In a sort of mournful relief,
To the requiem that so tearfully swells
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
All begin to sigh.
VI.
Amidst the grandeur of regal courts--
Majestic trumpets!
What a herald of pomp their sound reports!
How they blast, blast, blast,
In the royal air of splendor!
A fanfare fit for kings and queens,
A symphony that dazzles and gleams.
The trumpets' call is a grand announcement,
A declaration of royal enjoyment,
While the guests in their finery,
All around, seem to admire,
The trumpets' royal render;
Keeping grace, grace, grace,
In a sort of noble embrace.
With each note,
The room comes alive,
And all in attendance begin to thrive.
For in the trumpet's melody lies their glory,
And a promise of a royal story.
To the trumpet's majestic crescendo,
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
From the heralding commemoration of the trumpets.
VII.
High above the clouds they soar--
Heavenly trumpets!
What a sight of wonder their presence doth implore!
How they shine, shine, shine,
In the radiant sky above!
Their sound, a glorious thing,
As they herald for the King.
How they sing, sing, sing,
In a joyful melody,
While the saints down below,
All lift up their voices in harmony.
Joining in, in, in,
With a chorus of pure delight,
To the heavenly symphony that dwells in light,
As the music fills the air,
With Trumpets, Trumpets, Trumpets!
Heavenly trumpets!
We are lifted from our despair,
And find hope beyond compare.
How they sway, sway, sway,
In a rhythm so sublime,
While the world down below,
Is transformed by the power of the divine.
Praising on, on, on,
With a grace so sweet and free,
Oh, how blessed are we,
To hear the heavenly trumpets play!
May we always seek to be,
In their presence day by day,
For their sound, sound, sound
Brings us closer to our God,
As we join with all creation
In the worship of the Lord.
Forevermore, more, more,
May we lift our voices high
With the heavenly symphony that dwells.
While the angels up there yonder,
All around, seem to ponder,
The music of God's love;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of sacred chime.
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
From the praising and adoring of the trumpets.
VIII.
From the Throne of Christ stepping onto earth’s clouds--
The Trump of the Lord!
As all creation waits upon the Lord,
Jesus to descend with one accord,
To catch His bride away, adored,
Waiting for the Trump of the Lord,
To sound and raise us up on high.
Oh what a glorious sound; it is a sound,
A shout of Christ,
A victorious shout, shout, shout,
Calling out for His beloved bride,
To ascend to Heaven’s side.
The righteous will be called up high,
To meet the Lord in the sky,
While those who reject His grace,
Will face His wrath in their ominous place.
So let us wait and heed the Trumpeter's call,
Living in readiness for His coming, all.
For on that day, it will be too late,
To repent and change our eternal fate.
May we live each day in light, light, light
Anticipating for the trumpet's sound with all our might,
So that we may join the heavenly band,
And praise our King, hand in hand.
From the trumpets, trumpets, trumpets, trumpets,
Trumpets, trumpets, trumpets--
We'll hear the call of the Lord,
And enter into His eternal reward.