(Robert DeCormierPeter YarrowNoel Paul StookeyMary Travers)
I am a poor wayfaring stranger
I'm traveling through
This world of woe
And there's no sickness, no toil or danger
In that bright land
To which I go
I'm going there to see my mother
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just a'going over Jordan
I'm just a'going over home
Now one of these mornings
And it won't be long
We all shall rise
And stand side by side
And hand in hand
We're bound for glory
And death shall fall before freedom's tide
I'm going there to see my mother
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just a'going over Jordan
I'm just a'going over home
I'm going there to see my mother
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just a'going over Jordan
I'm just a'going over home
|