I guess when it's eleven we'll all be ready, awaiting the opening of the sky and the white bright light with angles sounding the golden trumpets.
Is this the day we've been waiting for,
Is this the day we've been living for.
Tomorrows sin is already seen today, how can I make it to Heaven.
My heart no longer trouble to the wrongs I do
My conscience seize to border me.
Priest and pastors now tremble in power, who do I believe.
Today I fall on my knees and repent for my evil deeds,
I can't say tomorrow will be heaven but I will never stop getting ready until eleven.
