(Robert DeCormierPeter YarrowNoel Paul StookeyMary Travers)

I am a poor wayfaring stranger

I'm traveling through

This world of woe

And there's no sickness, no toil or 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 a'going over Jordan

I'm just a'going over home



Now one of these mornings

And it won't be long

We all shall rise

And stand side by side

And hand in hand

We're bound for glory

And death shall fall before freedom's tide



I'm going there to see my mother

I'm going there no more to roam

I'm just a'going over Jordan

I'm just a'going over home



I'm going there to see my mother

I'm going there no more to roam

I'm just a'going over Jordan

I'm just a'going over home