The dark times of the past:
a blot on history's page
The enemy with power
Has seemed to rule an age
But throughout all this darkness
A few have seen the light
They whisper to their brothers
A hope midst this dark night
"He is Moving"
Around the world His children meet
Lift up one voice to praise
The savior and their only hope
Our Lord, the Light of Days
The language, words and melody
Of wildly different hue
But the message never changes,
what we all know is true:
He is Moving
A figure dying on a cross
As pain shoots through his whole
Cries to his father: "Why'd you leave"
And dies to save men's souls
As weeping loved ones bury him
The light and glory fades
Misunderstood, the living temple
in three days yet to raise.
He is moving.
And in the corners, widows weep
and orphans raise their wails
as satan tries to win the day
They don't know He will fail
But on that glory day he'll know,
and rue his future doom
The King of hosts returns to us
The church's own bridegroom.
He is Moving
As hope grows dim, and years grow long
You might lose sight of him
But keep the faith, your trust's not vain,
nor dream, nor petty whim
And though your eyes might flood with tears
You heart turn stone from sorrow
If you stand strong, hold to what's right,
This truth will shine tomorrow:
He is Moving | 
