Hush little baby, don't you cry
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You know your mama was born to die
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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The river of Jordan is muddy and cold
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Well it chills the body but not the soul
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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I've got a little book with pages three
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And every page spells liberty
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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Too late, my brothers
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Too late, but never mind
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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If living were a thing that money could buy
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Then the rich would live and the poor would die
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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There grows a tree in Paradise
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And the pilgrims call it the Tree of Life
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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Too late, my brothers
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Too late, but never mind
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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recorded by Joan Baez
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All My Trials, Lord
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| Joan Baez |
