The world has always sought for many ways
To reach a road of self-fulfilling praise
A road departing from the face of God
A road of pleasure that the pagans trod.
A longing only found by them to show
That melts away like sunshine after snow
Each new and joyful plaything charms the mind
The random restless manner of the blind.
Each new departure further hides God's face
Into a certain unbelief in Grace
No knowledge of a God who longs to slow
A Nation's slide and save a Nation's woe.
The downward journey of mankind will warn
Their unabated peril. But the dawn
Of answered prayer, is something greater still
Than man would want, their empty heart to fill.
Hope of the church, the longing of the day
Will show the world the new and living way
The Spirit power brings many to their knees
Amid the sound of praise like rising seas.
This, this is how is how that we will see return
To God's own plan and purpose. We will learn
That He will bless all those who visit Him
And in the glory of His presence swim.
This praise is real, and though we might not see
In actuality this praise, but we
Anticipate the Spirit's song of love
The glory and the wonder of the Dove.
The worship rolls, it seems the stars will sing
The trees will clap their hands as praises ring
The whole creation sings and fills this place
The awesome endless majesty of Grace.