Dust, generations, thousands of years of beautiful hope
Men long gone before me, sang to God from this hymnbook
I can hear singing, I can hear singing

Oh, Your love is so unbelievable
It won't be long and we'll need another song to sing
Your love is so unbelievable, we sing through the ages
Your love is unbelievable

Buildings, stone by stone, choirs of angels still sing on Sunday mornings
Through the wood, and stained glass windows, paintings of story, dance in
colour
I can hear singing, I can hear singing

And can it be that I should gain, unbelievable love, unbelievable love
Amazing grace how sweet the sound, unbelievable love, unbelievable love
For the Lord God omnipotent reigns in unbelievable love

Songs, dust and ashes, I'm not afraid of my journey home

I can hear singing



Behind the Song:
"If you've ever sat in an old dusty church that had old torn hymnals, dark sun-stained wood and high cathedral ceilings, you've no doubt daydreamed and wondered about the church’s history, the many songs and sermons preached in the room. Maybe even imagining the fashions of the decades walking in and out through the foyer, black and white in your minds eye. An angel perched on a flying buttress, devils warded off by the tall pipes of the long-modernized organ. The nostalgia of church legacy—that was the daydream I was in when I wrote the song. In the middle arose the question: Why, after centuries of songs about Jesus, are we still moved to sing new songs? It is love. It's unbelievable, shattering and unfair love. We can't help ourselves; we indulge because we want the world to know what it feels like, what it is. We, too, pull out all the stops on the organ and we sing as they sang about it." - Jason Germain (downhere)