G          D7                    G
I am a pilgrim, and a stranger,
                   C                               G
Traveling through this wearesome land;
   D7     G          G7              C
I got a home in that younder city, oh Lord.
                    G     D7                 G
And it's not made not made by hand.


I got a mother, a sister, and brother

Who have gone to that sweet land.

I'm determined to go and see them, good Lord,

All over on that distant shore.


As I go down to that river of Jordan.

Just to bathe my weary soul.

If I could touch but the hem of His garment, good Lord,

Well, I believe it would make me whole.