Eighteen months on a hospital floorA doctor said he'd never play no moreHe kept the brace on a nail by the doorSo he'd see the thing he was fighting forLift it up, lift it up, we earned itGloryThis is what we ran the whole race forGloryEvery scar was just a door to something moreWoah-oh-oh, woah-oh-ohThis is gloryWoah-oh-oh, woah-oh-ohSame knee, same boy, the same loud crowdThe ones who left him are screaming nowHe points to the brace, to the nail, to the doorFinal whistle, and the scoreboard tells it allGloryThis is what we ran the whole race forGloryEvery scar was just a door to something moreFor everyone who said he'd neverFor the boy by the door who held on, this is foreverGloryWoah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh, this is gloryThis is glory. We made it
