Waiting for the Song

By David Kitz

The robin sits high in the old weeping willow—
Waiting for the song to come.
The old man sits on the old park bench—
Waiting for the song to come.
The sun sinks slowly in the western sky.
It’s waiting for the song to come.
We’re all waiting for the song to come.

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

The young mom cries in the backseat.
She’s waiting for the song to come.
The broken man kneels at the altar.
He’s waiting for the song to come.
Children are crying for their Mommy.
They’re waiting for the song to come.
We’re all waiting for the song to come.

Jesus come and set the prisoners free.
Heal our hurts and wipe away our tears.
Break the chains that are holding me.
Jesus come and set your people free.
We’re waiting for the song,
Waiting for the song,
We’re waiting for the song to come.

The arching bough of an old willow tree — photo by David Kitz

Let the drumbeat roll and the trumpet sound.
We’re waiting for the song to come.
Jesus come and set this world aright.
We’re waiting for the song to come.
Your bride is yearning for her wedding night.
We’re waiting for the song,
Waiting for the song,
We’re waiting for the song to come.

Trumpet sound and drumbeat roll—
I’m waiting for the song to come.
Come Lord Jesus. Your bride is ready.
We’re waiting for the song to come.
We’re waiting for the song,
Waiting for the song,
We’re waiting for the song to come.

As darkness falls — photo by David Kitz

The robin sits high in the old weeping willow—
Let’s wait for the song to come.