Poor Wayfaring Stranger

A fitting finale for Thomas, from a friend, Joan Baez...

I am a poor wayfaring stranger,

wandering through this world of woe,

and there’s no sickness,

no toil or danger

in that bright land to which I go.

I’m going there to meet my mother,

she said she’d meet me when I come.

I’m only going over Jordan,

I’m only going over home.