Oh what a day will soon take place When the redeemed of Adam's race In an instant will all be transformed They'll come from near Some from afar On past the moon beyond the stars What a sight on that great happy morn Then sea and land give up their dead The earth too long has been their bed Released they rise through the air They'll come and join as magnet drawn To gather round that great white throne Behold their King waiting there The trump will sound amens resound The saints will rise up from the ground Such singing and shouting We've run the race We'll see his face And start to sing amazing grace What a sight on that resurrection morn Then row on row They'll fall in line Their perfect garments snowy white They'll march in and claim their own land Their home at last the King will say "These are my own for these are they Washed white in the blood of the lamb" The mighty band will start to play The hallelujah that day All glory to the king of all kings Then tears of joy will start to flow Because I've chosen long ago To be there when the saints start to sing The trump will sound and amens resound The saints will rise up from the ground Such singing and shouting We've run the race We'll see his face And start to sing amazing grace What a sight on that resurrection morn We've run the race We'll see his face And start to sing amazing grace What a sight What a sight What a sight on that resurrection morn