Let the dead sing, out of these aching bodies, we will still scream. With our bones still frail, and voice incomplete, we find our graves becoming empty.

You say your making all things new.
And you tell us, you’re bringing us back to you.

We’ll sing cause we’re free, this decay's compared nothing to your glory, With hope in our lungs
They’ll pump praise til our hearts are done beating

Romans 8.18-24

"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience."

We wait, our bodies groan with creation
and the weight, of these fitting contractions,
await, with the world's anticipation
and the fate of our own soul's redemption,
and we feel it. we feel it. we feel it. we all feel it.

we sing cause we're free knowing these are more than chords and harmonies

bring us back to You.