I am a pilgrim and a stranger
travelling through this wearisome land.
I've got a home in that yonder city, Good Lord,
and it's not, (oh no it's not) not made by hand.

I've got a mother, sister, and a brother
who have gone this way before.
I am determined to go and see them, Good Lord,
over on that other shore.

(Chorus)

I'm going down to the river of Jordan,
just to bathe my weary soul.
If I touch but the hem of his garment, Good Lord,
I believe it would make me whole.

(Chorus