The marketplace is empty,
No more traffic in the street,
All the builders' tools are silent,
No more time to harvest wheat;
Busy housewives cease their labors,
In the courtroom no debate,
Work on earth has been suspended,
As the King comes thro' the gate.
All the railroad cars are empty,
As they rattle down the tracks,
In the news room no one watches;
As machines type pointless facts,
All the planes veer off their courses,
No one sits at the controls,
For the King of all the ages,
Comes to claim eternal souls.
Happy faces line the hallways,
Those whose lives have been redeemed,
Broken homes that He has mended,
Those from prison He has freed;
Little children and the aged;
Hand in hand stand all a-glow,
Who were crippled, broken, ruined,
Clad in garments white as snow.
I can hear the chariots rumble,
I can see the marching throng,
The flurry of God's trumpets,
Spells the end of sin and wrong:
Regal robes are now unfolding,
Heaven's grandstand's all in place,
Heaven's choir now assembled,
Start to sing, "Amazing Grace!"
O the King is coming,
The King is coming!
I just heard the trumpets sounding,
And now His face I see;
O the King is coming,
The King is coming!
Praise God, He's coming for me!
O the King is coming,
The King is coming!
I just heard the trumpets sounding,
And now His face I see;
O the King is coming,
The King is coming!
Praise God, He's coming for me!
Praise God, He's coming for me!