Brian J. N. Davis ✈︎ A Metropolitan Guide

Call of the Trumpet

It’s the call of the trumpet, and the bang of the drum
It’s the charge of the horses, and the crackling of guns
This might be your day, boys, but it might be our last
The sound of the trumpet and the meadows echoing back

Some of you will never see home again
And the call of the trumpet is the exclamation before your end
To make your sacrifice worth it, well, you might as well win
And bring an end to this madness until it all starts over again

It’s not the smoke in the fields, or the smell of the lead
It’s not the wounds or the scars, or the sight of the dead
It’s the sound of the trumpet, and the meadows echoing back

I’ll probably never see home again
And the call of the trumpet is the proclamation of my end
They say the sacrifice is worth it, because in victory
They’ll place you on the right side of history

This might be our day, boys, but it might be our last
And the call of the trumpet and the meadows echoing back.