Trumpet

There's a garden of woe
You've left untended
Where the weeds overflow
And the flowers are bended low
There's a trumpet of pain
Go blow the louder
Call down the rain
To shower the ground again

For the gold shines bright,
Though the chest is dusty
And the key is right
Though the locks are rusted tight
On the field of dread
Our mothers are moaning
Tales of the dead
And our fathers groaning said

We need the light,
The tiny gleaming
Of your song in the night
Like the starlight, streaming bright
It's a song of hope
And with hope, the power
To test the slope again
And to raise the flower up

There's a garden of woe
You've left untended
Where the weeds overflow
And the flowers are bended low
And there's a trumpet of pain
Go blow the louder
Call down the rain
To shower the ground again