Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be
But we know that when, he shall appear, we shall be like him
We shall be like him, for we shall see him, as he is
Formed in his image, made to be like him
And in Christ we hung on the tree
With him we rose in sweet victory
And that’s how an outcast becomes royalty
Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what
we shall be
But we know that when, he shall appear, we shall be like him
We shall be like him, for we shall see him, as he is
These robes of flesh, they only make us groan
Longing for our final home
We’ll rise to meet him with loved one’s in the air
To be with our Savior in the place he’s prepared
Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what
we shall be
But we know that when, he shall appear, we shall be like him
We shall be like him
For we shall see him, as he is
For we shall see him, as he is