Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
Eric Bibb
I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Travelling through this world of woe
There’s no sickness, toil nor 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 going over Jordan
I’m just going over home
I know dark clouds will gather ‘round me
I know my path is rough and steep
But golden fields stretch out before me
Where weary eyes no more will weep
I’m going there to see my brother
I’m going there no more to roam
I’m just going over Jordan
I’m just going over home
I’m going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come
I’m just going over Jordan
I’m just going over home
I’m going there to see my father
He said he’d meet me when I come
I’m going there, over Jordan
I’m just going to my new home