I Am A Pilgrim - Doc Watson, Merle Watson

I am a pilgrim and a stranger

Travelling through this wearsome land

I’ve got a home in that yonder city, good Lord

And it’s not not made by hand

I’ve got a father, a son, a mother, and a brother

The’ve gone gone home to the other shore

I am determined to go and see them up there

And live with them forever more

When I go down to old chilly Jordan

Just to bathe my weary soul

If I can but touch the hem of his garmet, good Lord

Then I know he’ll make me home

Now when they laid me down for the last time

With these tired hand resting on my breast

I don’t want none of that all weaping and crying over me

Because you know this old boy is going to rest

I am a pilgrim and a stranger

Travelling through this wearsome land

I’ve got a home in that yonder city, good Lord

And it’s not not made by hand