American Old Time Song Lyrics: 02 Angel Gabriel

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 2

ANGEL GABRIEL

Oh! my soul, my soul am a-gwine for to rest,
In de arms of de angel Gabriel,
And I climb on a hill and I look to de West,
And I cross over Jordan to de Lam';
And I'll sit me down in de old arm-chair,
Oh! brudders, I will never tire,
And old Satan may sneeze, but I will take my ease,
And I'll warm myself at de holy fire.

Chorus.
I will shout, and I'll dance.
And I'll wake up early in de morn;
And I will arise, and rub my sleepy eyes,
When old Gabriel am blowing his horn.

Oh! my soul, my soul am a-gwine for to rest,
Gwine to rest just as sure as I am born,
And I'll look like a blackbird a sitt'n on a nest,
When old Gabri'l am blowing on de horn;
And I'll leave my clothes safe upon de shore,
For I'll have new garments for to wear;
And I'll have bran-new shoes, and never get de blues,
And de angels dey will come and curl my hair.-Chorus.

Oh! I shan't weep when I'm gwine for to leave,
So I'll pack up my band-box and I'll go,
And my brethren, oh! harken and don't ever grieve,
For I'm gwine up to glory very slow;
And I'll eat my meals, yes, three times a day,
Oh! you bet your life I won't be late,
And I'll have lots of fun, when you, my brethren come,
For I'm gwine to take de tickets at de gate.-Chorus.