Текст песни City Called Heaven - Mahalia Jackson

I am a poor pilgrim of sorrow
And I'm left in this whole wide world
I'm left in this world alone
I have no hope for tomorrow, Lord
But I'm trying to make heaven, Lord, my home, my home

Well, sometimes, I am tall
And sometimes I am below
Sometimes I am your child
I don't know which way I can run
I can run
But I've heard of a city called heaven
And I'm striving to make heaven my home
My home