Fa-ther can you hear me? How have I let you down? I curse the day- that I was born And all the sor-row in this world Let me take you to the her-ding ground-- Where all good men are tram--pled down--- Just to set-tle a bet that could not be won- Be-tween a pride-ful fa-ther and his son Will you guide me now;-- for I can't see A rea-son for this suf-fer-ing and this long mi-se-ry?--- What if eve-ry li-ving soul could be up-right and strong? Well then I'd do i-ma---gine There will be... Yeah, there will be...-- And there will be Sor-row-- no more When all sol-diers lay their wea-pons down,-- Or when all kings and all Queens re-lin-quish their cro-wns, Or when the on-ly true mes-si-ah res-cues us from our-selves; It's ea-sy to i-ma---gine There will be... Yeah, there will be...-- And there will be Sor-row-- no- more There will be... Yeah, there will be...-- And there will be Sor-row-- no- more Yeah, there will be... Yeah, there will be...-- And there will be Sor-row-- no more