Clash of Seven Trumpets

(ahhhh) (oohhhh) The first horn breaks the morning air

A rain of fire upon the silent ground

Clean white robes stand waiting there

Listening for the heavy sound

The mountains tremble at the sea

A third of the waters turn to stone (ahhhh)

Seven trumpets call the sky

Open up the silver gates on high

Let the golden chorus cry

Seven trumpets tearing through the sky

The fifth horn brings the dark of noon

The star that fell upon the hollow deep

We watch

beneath a faded moon

While all the tired nations weep

Six have sounded, one remains

Breaking all the

ancient chains! (ahhhh)

Seven trumpets call the sky!

Open up the silver gates on high!

(on high)

Let the golden chorus cry

Seven trumpets wake the morning sky! (ahhhh)

Peace upon the quiet ground