Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
He is trampling down the mansions where the wealth of men is stored.
He has heard each cry of widow, orphan, refugee–ignored!
The Lord is marching on!
Refrain:
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
The Lord is marching on.
I have seen Him in the eyes of migrants in a holding cell.
I have heard Him in the songs of slaves whose joy could not be quelled.
Though His throne is found in heaven, He has walked with them through Hell!
The Lord is marching on!
Oh, to read that shocking gospel, writ on broken chains of steel:
“As you deal with those in bondage, so with you My grace shall deal.
I will judge you by the plight of those you’ve crushed beneath your heel!”
The Lord is marching on!
He has lifted up the lowly, cast the mighty from their seat.
He is filling up the hungry at His table, set to eat.
While the rich he sends out–empty! Strikes the proud in their conceit!
The Lord is marching on!
In the backwoods of an empire, Christ was born across the sea
To His young and brown-skinned parents, who lived life in poverty.
As He died to make us holy, let us die, then, to our greed!
The Lord is marching on!