All My Trials

All My Trials

Joan Baez

Hush little baby, don't you cry

You know your mama was born to die

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

The river of Jordan is muddy and cold

Well it chills the body but not the soul

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

I've got a little book with pages three

And every page spells liberty

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

Too late, my brothers

Too late, but never mind

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

If living were a thing that money could buy

Then the rich would live and the poor would die

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

There grows a tree in Paradise

And the pilgrims call it the Tree of Life

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

Too late, my brothers

Too late, but never mind

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

All my trials, Lord, soon be over

【end】