The day of grace is near its end,
Oh say, can you see shadows lengthening?

Do you often feel the emptiness,
Every woman, every man just a consequence of molecular gains?
But it seems we are a blight upon this blue and green creation,
Running on with fear inside,
Towards Eventide.

The day of grace is near its end,
All our earthly ambition ends in the grave,
Like this song...
Who will hear it when I am long gone?
But I don't shed a tear, because I've been given everything,
And every woman, every man, could have just the same,
Before Eventide.

The day of grace is near its end,
We shall see Him as He is
We shall see Him as He is
We shall see Him as He is
We shall see Him as He is