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The market place is empty, no more traffic in the street,
all the builder's tools are silent, no more time to harvest wheat;
Busy house-wives cease their labors, in the court room no debate,
work on earth is all suspended as the King comes thro' the gate.
Happy faces line the hall-ways, 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 aglow,
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 spell the end of sin and wrong;
Regal robes are now unfolding, Heaven's grand-stand all in place,
Heaven's choir is now asembled, start to sing" Amazing Grace!"
Oh, the King is coming! The King is coming!
I just heard the trumpet sounding and now His face I see,
Oh, the King is coming! The King is coming!
Praise God, He's coming for me.
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