My Father's Glories

My Father's glories can not be explained
The might of his rivers, the magic of rain
How he brings an eagle home safe from the sky
I can't comprehend it, but I'll know by and by

When my Father calls me on some distant day
He'll speak and I'll through off my blankets of clay
Then he will show me my wonderful home
In another new world that my father owns


My Father, my Father will not pass us by,
The day he comes rolling back through the wild sky,
He promised to wake us, and he won't forget
Some glorious morning we'll hear his foot steps.

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