| Lord, I’m poor pilgrim of sorrow
|
| Down in this world, I’m all alone
|
| I have no hope for tomorrow
|
| And I have no place that I can roam
|
| Sometimes, sometimes I’m so lonely
|
| Sometimes I don’t know what to do
|
| I look around to friends for consolation
|
| And I find that they have troubles too
|
| And I’ve got sisters and brothers, they don’t like me
|
| Because I’m away from sin
|
| And I’ve got good friends, my best friends they turned against me
|
| Because I’m a trial so hard to win
|
| Oh, Lord, oh, Lord, come on, Jesus
|
| And oh, Lord, sometimes I’m exhausted, Lord and driven
|
| 'Til I decided that I would roam
|
| That’s when I heard of a city called Glory
|
| And oh, I’m trying to make that city my home |