A time will come for singing when all your tears are shed,
When sorrows, chains are broken, and broken hearts shall mend.
The deaf will hear you singing when silent tongues are freed.
The lame will join your dancing when blind eyes learn to see.
A time will come for singing when trees will raise their boughs,
When men lay down their armor, and hammer their swords into plows,
When beggars live as princes and orphans find their homes,
When prison cells are emptied and hatred has grown old.
A time will come for singing a hymn by hearts foretold.
That kings have sought for ages, and treasured more than gold.
Its lyrics turn to silver when sung in harmony.
The Lord of Love will teach us to sing its melody.