Traveling through this wearisome land
I've got a home built
In that yonder city, good Lord
And it's not, not made by hand
I got a mother
A sister and a father
Them gone on now, to the other shore
And I'm determined
To go and see them good Lord
And to live with them forever more
When I go down to the river of Jordan
Just to bathe my, my weary soul
If I can but touch
The hem of his garment good lord
Then I, I know you'll make me whole
And when he lay me down for the last time
With his hard hand restin' on my breast
I don't want none
Of that weeping and crying over me
Because you know that I've gone to rest
Yes, I'm a pilgrim and a stranger
Traveling through this, this wearisome land
I've got a home in that yonder city, good Lord
And it's not, not made by hand
