Keith Dovoric Poet Lyric

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

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