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(Traditional)
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Hush little baby, don't you cry,
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You know your mother was born to die
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All my trials, Lord, soon be over
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Too late my brothers, too late
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But never mind
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All my trials, Lord soon be over
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The river of Jordan is chilly and cold
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It chills the body but it warms 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, too late
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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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You know the rich would live
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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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The Christians 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, too late
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But never mind
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All my trials, Lord soon be over
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All My Trials
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| Harry Belafonte |
