I stand on land that is not my own,
I toil the day through working my way,
As I lay up treasures for time unmeasured,
While camping in the lands of man.
My place is found, I am homeward bound,
A journey of life filled with strife,
The pains I bare, for the promice so rare,
Of the glory of a heavenly home.
A pilgram am I in this land 'til I die,
Down roads I must travel as life unravels,
Lending hand to my brother, my sister and mother,
Tired old bones in a land not my own.
I set up a place, and slow my pace,
Though my eyes are on a greater prize,
I am homeward bound for a robe and a crown,
While yet camping in the lands of man.
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