In my Fathers house are many, mansions,
If it were not true, I would, have told you so,
He has got a way to live,
In that Bright City,
He's preparing me a mansion, up there I know,
I'm satisfied with, just a cottage below,
A little silver, and a little gold,
In that Bright City, where the ransom will shine,
I want a gold one, that's silver lined,
I've got a mansion, Just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where, we will never grow old,
And someday yonder, we'll never more wander,
But walk the streets that, are purest gold,
Don't leave me poor, deserted or lonely,
I'm not discouraged, I'm heaven bound,
I'm just a pilgrim, in search of a City,
I want a mansion, a harp and a crown,
I've got a mansion, Just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where, we'll never grow old,
And someday yonder, we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that, are purest gold,
But walk the streets that, are purest gold,
Writer(s): Ira F. Stanphill
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