Too late, too late will be the cry,
When our Lord comes in the sky;
No matter how you pray or pine,
'Twill do no good; He's drawn the line.
The rocks and hills won't fall on you
To hide you from the One who's true.
Death will seem to flee away;
Your days of trial are here to stay.
When all the good are gone above,
There will be a scarcity of love,
To buy or sell you'll have to bow
And take a mark upon your brow.
If you bow, you'll burn; this saying's true,
And not to bow is death for you.
But this death won't last long,
For soon you'll rise to join God's throng.
That decision then will be hard to make,
On your right and left the mark they'll take
And bow and worship their new king;
Praises to him they will sing.
They'll serve Him then for they've no choice;
They'll die if they don't obey His voice
But if they bow, they'll burn in hell,
Where Satan and his angels fell.
So while He's here who gives us peace,
Choose His way and from sin cease.
He'll give you joy instead of grief,
And from the world you'll get relief.
When you choose, choose what's right,
Turn to God and walk in His light.
For in those days when you want to die,
Too late, too late, will be the cry.
