I think the morning comes
All the saints have got to get it on
We will tell a story about Lord John
Trials dark on every hand,
All the ways that God would lead us
to that happy promised land
But we're trusting in His love,
and we'll follow till we die
Well, well, well, by and by,
All is silent, all together comes
We will see this through,
And we'll understand it better by
why we must sit alone and cry
With our heads in sorrow bowed,
cast aside the happy crowd
But we'll keep our head up high,
brush the teardrops from our eyes
We'll by and by, when the morning comes
All the signs of God are gathered home
We will finish the room, how we overcome
And we'll understand it better by
Well, well, well, by and by
All the saints of God gather round,
And we'll understand it better by and by.
