All My Trials (Baez Joan)

Hush little baby, don't you cry You know your mother was born to die All my trials, Lord, soon be over The river of Jordan is mad and cold Well, it chills the body but not the soul All my trials, Lord, soon be over I've got a little book with pages three And every page spells liberty All my trials, Lord, soon be over Too late my brothers, too late But never mind All my trials, Lord, soon be over If living were a thing that money could buy You know the rich would live and the poor would die All my trials, Lord, soon be over There grows a tree in Paradise And the pilgrims call it the tree of life All my trials, Lord, soon be over Too late my brothers, too late But never mind All my trials, Lord, soon be over All my trials, Lord soon be over