Trumpet

Vanity dripping off of you Like dew from a new spring stem The mightiest cock shall rule the roost But there's a disease unleashed in the pen Something's in the air Blowing over this farm tonight Wake up, wake up, Farmer Jones The sky is burning so bright Vanity pooling under you The floodlights, flooded in sweat The front row feels the ground burst And the critics never forget Something's in the air Blowing over this town tonight Wake up, wake up, man on the street The sky is burning so bright Vanity will not shelter you When the lakeshore goes to boil And the angel blows the trumpet And dust blows off the soil Something's in the air Blowing over this hill tonight Wake up, wake up, John of the Cross The sky is burning bright