Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.
The angel of mercy, the child of love, together had flown to the realms above.
Angels descending bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
We are traveling on with our staff in hand... We are pilgrims bound for the heavenly land.
If I had a choice, I would still choose to remain blind...for when I die, the first face I will ever see will be the face of my blessed Saviour.
Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep, where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep?