Knocking at the Gates of Jordan.
Copyright, 1881, by Will H. Kennedy.
I'm out in the cold and I can't get inI've turn'd my back on wicked sin;
De pass-word's lost, what shall I do?
I'm thro' de keyhole peeking;
I clim' up de stairs in de early mornI'm de fast dat heard ole Gabriel's horn;
But de gate is shut and de hour is late,
I'm standing here a knocking.
Knock, knock, but I have got to wait
Till Peter brings de keys to open up dat gate;
Knock, I nock, I want to get good boarding,
Dat's why I'm knocking, knocking, knocking,
At de gates of Jordan.
De jaybird hopp'd on de orange tree,
De wasp insulted de bumble bee,
Which goes to show dis world is made
For folks to fret And grumble;
I greased my shoes wid de oil of hope,
And I clutch'd de end of de heavenly rope;
I was hoisted up to de maintop gaff,
While de sinners had to stumble. - Chorus.
I'll clean my robes wid golden soap,
I'll sit on a cloud wid a telescope,
To watch de stragglers a climb de stairs,
And try and reach de landing;
But de way is slippery as isin-glass,
And Peter's a hard ole man to pass,
For he wants de grip and your history, too,
Or your head he'll be expanding. - Chorus.