The work has five movements:

   1. Allegro maestoso- Musically, the first movement – written in C minor – though passing through a number of different moods, often resembles a funeral march, and is violent and angry.

 “We stand by the coffin of a person well loved.  His whole life, his struggles, his passions, his sufferings and his accomplishments on earth once more for the last time pass before us.  And now, in this solemn and deeply stirring moment, when the confusions and distractions of everyday life are lifted like a hood from our eyes, a voice of awe-inspiring solemnity chills our heart – a voice that, blinded by the mirage of everyday life, we usually ignore: ‘What next?  What is life and what is death?  Why did you live?  Why did you suffer?  Is it all nothing but a huge, frightful joke?  Will we live on eternally?  Do our life and death have a meaning?’  We must answer these questions in some way if we are to go on living – indeed, if we are to go on dying!  He into whose life this call has once sounded must give an answer.  And this answer I give in the final movement.”

2. Andante moderato- The second movement is a delicate Ländler in A-flat major with two contrasting sections of slightly darker music. This slow movement itself is contrasting to the two adjacent movements.

 “A memory, a ray of sunlight, pure and cloudless, out of the departed’s life.  You must surely have had the experience of burying someone dear to you, and then, perhaps, on the way back, some long-forgotten hour of shared happiness suddenly rose before your inner eye, sending, as it were, a sunbeam into your soul – not overcast by any shadow – and you almost forgot what had just taken place.”

3. In ruhig flieBender Bewegung- +(With quietly flowing movement) – The third movement is a scherzo in C minor. It opens with two strong, short timpani strokes. It is followed by two softer strokes, and then followed by even softer strokes that provide the tempo to this movement, which includes references to Jewish folk music.

“When you awaken from that blissful dream and are forced to return to this tangled life of ours, it may easily happen that this surge of life ceaselessly in motion, never resting, never comprehensible, suddenly seems eerie, like the billowing of dancing figures in a brightly lit ballroom that you gaze into from outside in the dark – and from a distance so great that you can no longer hear the music.  Then the turning and twisting movement of the couples seems senseless.  You must imagine that, to one who has lost his identity and his happiness, the world looks like this – distorted and crazy, as if reflected in a concave mirror.  Life then becomes meaningless.  Utter disgust for every form of existence and evolution seizes him in an iron grip, and he cries out in a scream of anguish.”

4. Urlicht (Primeval Light )- The fourth movement, Urlicht, is a Wunderhorn song, sung by an alto, which serves as an introduction to the Finale in a manner similar to the bass recitative in Beethoven's Ninth. The song, set in the remote key of D-flat major, illustrates the longing for relief from worldly woes, leading without a break to the response in the Finale.

“The moving voice of naïve faith sounds in our ears.  ‘I am from God and will return to God.  The dear God will give me a light, will light me to eternal blessed life!’ ”

5. Im Tempo des Scherzos(In the tempos of the scherzo) – The finale is the longest, typically lasting over half an hour. It is divided into two large parts, the second of which begins with the entry of the chorus and whose form is governed by the text of this movement. The first part is instrumental, and very episodic, containing a wide variety of moods, tempi and keys, with much of the material based on what has been heard in the previous movements, although it also loosely follows sonata principles.

“Once more we must confront terrifying questions.  The movement starts with the same dreadful scream of anguish that ended the Scherzo.  The voice of the Caller is heard.  The end of every living thing has come, the last judgment is at hand, and the horror of the day of days has come upon us.  The earth trembles; the last trumpet sounds; the graves burst open; all the creatures struggle out of the ground, moaning and trembling.  Now they march in a mighty procession: rich and poor, peasants and kings, the whole church with bishops and popes.  All have the same fear, all cry and tremble alike because, in the eyes of God, there are no just men.  The cry for mercy and forgiveness sounds fearful in our ears.  The wailing becomes gradually more terrible.  Our senses desert us; all consciousness dies as the Eternal Judge approaches.  The trumpets of the Apocalypse ring out.  Finally, after all have left their empty graves and the earth lies silent and deserted, there comes only the long-drawn note of the bird of death.  Even it finally dies.

“What happens now is far from expected: Everything has ceased to exist.  The gentle sound of a chorus of saints and heavenly hosts is then heard.  Soft and simple, the words gently swell up: ‘Rise again, yes, rise again thou wilt!’  Then the glory of God comes into sight.  A wondrous light strikes us to the heart.  All is quiet and blissful.  Lo and behold: there is no judgment, no sinners, no just men, no great and small; there is no punishment and no reward.  A feeling of overwhelming love fills us with blissful knowledge and illuminates our existence.”