| I am a poor pilgrim of sorrow
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| Cast out in this wide world to roam
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| My brothers and sisters won’t own me They say that I’m weak and I’m poor
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| But Jesus father the almighty
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| Has bade me to enter the door
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| Sometimes I’m almost driven
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| 'Til I know not where to roam
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| I’ve heard of a city called Heaven
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| I’ve started to make it my home
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| When friends and relations forsake me And troubles grow 'round me so high
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| I think of the kind words of Jesus
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| Poor pilgrim I always am nigh
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| Sometimes I’m almost driven
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| 'Til I know not where to roam
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| I’ve heard of a city called Heaven
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| I’ve started to make it my home
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| Oh soon I shall reach the bright glory
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| Where mortals no more do complain
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| The ship that will take me is coming
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| The captain is calling my name
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| Sometimes I’m almost driven
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| 'Til I know not where to roam
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| I’ve heard of a city called Heaven
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| I’ve started to make it my home
|
| I’ve heard of a city called heaven
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| I’ve started to make it my home |