Come Sunday (Live)

On Monday she is teaching school On Tuesday his a cop On Wednesday she gives haircuts In her small town beauty shop On Thursday his a businessman On Friday he'll plant wheat On Saturday she drives a taxi Through the city street But come Sunday, in a place called Home Come Sunday they'll put on their robe Come Sunday they'll be singing in the choir Come Sunday God's children all come home And they sing glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory they will sing Glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory to the King The Mondays of a lifetime here; will only bring a sigh The days, the weeks the months, the years How swiftly they flew by The cares of life, the joys we knew just faded memories When the Father calls His children home to spend eternity But come Sunday, in a place called Home Come Sunday we'll put on our robe Come Sunday we'll be singing in the choir Come Sunday God's children will all be home And they'll sing glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory we will sing Glory, glory hallelujah Glory, glory to the King