Tell us of angels on high, tell us of clouds I can feel under my feet
Tell us of vast golden fields and heavenly wonders that go beyond what I can see
Tell us of triumphant music, the brass sounding trumpets, tell of the welcoming choir
Tell us of majestic men, mighty in valor riding on chariots of fire

Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far
'Cause it tells us who we are and it says where we're going
Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far

Tell of the last liberation, the end of the suffer beginning of good things to come
Tell of the sweet celebration, the debut, excitement of knowing that your work is done
Tell of that moment in time when time is no longer and life will be forever lived
Tell of the fresh falling rain soaking the hearts of which to you we freely give

Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far
Because it tells us who we are I wanna be in that number
Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far

How wonderful you are to me
How wonderful that day will be
How wonderful you are to me
How wonderful that day will be

Tell of the last declaration, the ringing of freedom, the promise of sorrow no more
Tell of the first close encounter with you our Father - the lone one whom we all adore

Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far
Because it tells us who we are I and it says where we're going and
Oh tell us we're going home, tell us that heavenly story and oh
Tell of that homecoming glory it's my favorite story by far

Oh tell us that story
Oh tell us that story
Oh tell us that story
Oh tell us...

It's my favorite story
My favorite story
My favorite story
My favorite story by far

Tell us of angels on high, tell us of clouds I can feel under my feet
Tell us of vast golden fields and heavenly wonders that go beyond what I can see
Tell us of triumphant music, the brass sounding trumpets, tell of the welcoming choir