How the ransom will raise,
happy songs in His praise,
when all of God's singers get home.
When all of God's sailors,
There'll be no place like heaven,
When all of God's singers get lost
I like to think that before time began,
before the world was created
or galaxies flung into space,
there was God and he was singing a song.
The music was so beautiful
And down through the ages,
he's always had his singers
or danced short movements.
No one has ever heard the whole song
he will gather all his children
the singers of all the ages
and fill in the parts life taught to them.
At last we'll hear Love's sweetest song
as it was first conceived
in the heart of the great songwriter himself
when the song of all the ages
is sung around the father's throne,
when all God's singers get home.
As we sing here on earth,
songs of sadness are mirth,
is a foretaste of rapture divine.
But our song can't compare
with the glory we'll share
When all of God's singers get home
When all of singers get home
There'll be no place like heaven,
When all of God's singers
There'll be no place like Hell,
When all of God's singers get home.
When all of God's singers get old
When all of God's singers get old