Booker's Guitar

The guitar owned an' played By the great Booker White Found its way, by grace into my arms He would call it "Hard Rock" 'Cos the body's made of steel On th headstock he glued a heart-shaped charm In a brown leather case, with green velvet linin'

I am a poor wayfaring stranger Travelling through this world of woe. There's no sickness, toil nor danger In that bright land to which I go. I'm going there to see my mother I'm going there no more to roam. I'm just going over Jordan I'm just going o