I am a pilgrim and a stranger
Traveling through this wearisome land
And I've got a home in that yonder city good Lord
And it's not
Good Lordy it's not
Not made by hand
I got a mother a sister and a brother
Who have gone to that sweet home
And I am determined to go and see them good Lord
Over on
Good Lordy over on
That distant shore
As I go down to that river Jordan
Just to bathe my weary soul
If I could touch but just the hem of His garment good Lord
I believe
Good Lordy I believe
That it would make me whole
Now when I'm dead laying in my coffin
All of my friends all gather round
They can say that he's just laying there sleeping good Lord
Sweet peace
Lordy sweet peace
His soul is found
