Gabriel descended to earth and blew his trumpet, and called
All beings alive and all the dead in their coffins to justice
But it was already three a.m, and every sinner slept like a log
And the trumpet voice was in vain, and nobody of us rose up
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow it
It cannot be any worse
The city is such a slumber,
That the skies will not wake it up
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow it
In celebration of your heavens
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow to the deaf ones
Till you are deaf yourself
The seraphim, enraged, blew with his last ounce of strength, and so
The skies above him shook,
The light of heavenly bodies faded
Yet much stronger than the brazen calling
Was the peaceful snoring from the windows
So he, paler than his own feathers,
Dropped the trumpet out of his clutches
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow it
It cannot be any worse
The city is such a slumber,
That the skies will not wake it up
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow it
In celebration of your heavens
Blow the trumpet, Gabriel, blow to the deaf ones
Till you are deaf yourself