by Margaret Folley

Created on: March 07, 2009

Moma tells me of a city she'll be seeing

When she leaves this old world here below

And she tells me the beauty of that city has never been told

There'll be angels singing in that city

And the streets are made of pure gold

So please take me with you won't you moma

For I've got a longing to go

I've already got a written invitation

Jesus signed it when he saved my soul

Oh I know I'll see daddy in that city

He's waiting there for me I know

Oh I know that down here he had to suffer

And his burdens got to heavy to bear

But now he's gone to be with Jesus

And I know he'll welcome me there

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