{title: Wayfaring stranger}
{subtitle:Poutníci}
{subtitle:Tradicionál}

{c:1.}
[Em]I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
A trav'ling [Am]through this land of [Em]woe.
And there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright [Am]world[Bm] to which I [Em]go

{start_of_chorus: R.}
I'm going [C]there to meet my [G]Father
I'm going [C]there no more to [B7]roam
I'm just a [Em]going over Jordan
I'm just a [Am]going [Bm]over [Em]home.
{end_of_chorus}

{c:2.}
I know dark clouds will gather 'round me
I know my way is rough and steep
Yet beauteous fields lie just before me
Where souls redeemed their vigil keep.

{start_of_chorus: R.}
I'm going there…
{end_of_chorus}