Angel Gabriel 
Angel Gabriel 
Oh my soul, my soul, I'm bound for to rest In the arms of the angel Gabriel And I'll climb up the hill and look to the west I'm crossing over Jordan to the land And I'll sit me down in my old armchair People, I will not be tired And though Satan may speak I will take my ease As I warm myself up by the fire
 Chorus: And I'll shout and I'll dance And I'll rise up early in the morning I will rise and rub my sleepy eyes When old Gabriel comes blowing on his horn 
Oh my soul, my soul I'm bound for to rest I'll rest just as sure as I am born And I'll sing like a blackbird sitting in its nest When old Gabriel comes blowing on his horn And I'll throw my clothes up on the shore New garments I will have to wear And I'll have brand new shoes and never get the blues The angels will come and curl my hair 
Oh I shan't weep when it's time for me to leave I'll pack up my bandbox and go Goodbye old friends, it's no time for to grieve Yes I'm moving up to glory very slow And I'll eat my meals three times a day You bet your life, I will not be late And I'll have lots of fun when all you people come 'Cause I'm gonna take the tickets at the gate 
note: This is a traditional ("campmeeting") song, sung by Atwater-Donnelly (and perhaps Doc Watson) that I know of. This version is from AtwaterDonnelly's Like the Willow Tree, on BCN Records.