As I wake with the morning of each day that passes by
and I listen to the sounds upon my ear.
I can't help but keep a watch toward that Eastern sky
and I'm wonderin' if the trumpet will be the next sound that I hear.
What a beautiful day for the Lord to come again,
What a beautiful day for him to take his children home,
How I long to see his face
And to touch his nail-scarred hands
What a beautiful day for the Lord to come again.
All my earthly disappointments and my trials here below
Fade away when I remember his last words,
He said, he'd return and receive his children unto him
And I'm longing just to look upon the face of my Lord.
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