In The Fields Of The Lord
The Porter's Gate
In the fields of the Lord, our work is rest
He is moving in our hands and feet to bless
In the fields of the Lord, in the fields of the Lord
In the fields of the Lord, our work is rest
In the vineyards of the Lord, our work is light
He is tending every leaf and every vine
In the vineyards of the Lord, in the vineyards of the Lord
In the vineyards of the Lord, our work is light
In the garden of the Lord, our work is sound
He is weaving every thorn into a crown
In the garden of the Lord, in the garden of the Lord
In the garden of the Lord, our work is sound
At the harvest of the Lord, the fields are white
Oh, He will wipe away the tears from ev'ry eye
At the harvest of the Lord, at the harvest of the Lord
At the harvest of the Lord, the fields are white



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