Classic Poem

Some of these nights about twelve o'clock
This old world is going to reel and rock;
Sinners will tremble and cry for pain
The Lord's going to come in His airo-plane.

Chorus
Ho! ye thirsty of every tribe
Get your tickets for an airo-plane ride.
Jesus our Saviour is coming again
To take us to heaven in His airo-plane.

Talk about your joy rides in your automobiles,
Talk about your fast rides on a motor wheel;
Talk about your joy ride in your motor boat,
We'll break all records as we upward fly.

In the airo-plane joy ride through the sky
There'll be no punctures nor muddy roads;
No broken axles from heavy loads
No sparks to fly forward and cause delay.

As we soar up the narrow way,
You must get ready if you want to ride;
Quit your sin and get rid of your pride
You must have your lamp both bright and clean.

And your vessel full of oil to run the machine
Now I am ready to take this ride;
I've quit my sin and the Holy Ghost abides
I've got a vessel both bright and clean.

When our journey is over and we all sit down
At the marriage supper with a robe and crown,
We blend our voices with the heavenly throng
And praise our Saviour as the years roll on.