I am a poor
Wayfaring stranger
Traveling through
This world of woe
But there is no sickness
No toil, No danger
In that bright land
To which I go

Im going there
to see my Father
Im going there
No more to roam

I'm only going
Over Jordan
Im only going
Over home

I know dark clouds
Gather round me
I know my way
Is rough and steep
But golden fileds
Lie just before me
Where souls redeemed
Angels keep

Im going there
to see my Father
He said he'd meet me
When I come home

Im only going
Over Jordan
Im only going
Over home.