I trudge like a pilgrim o'er mountains and plains
Cities and country; through deserts and rain
I'm seen as a stranger to great and lost men
To the strong and the small â those known and forgotten
I still glimpse a city, that city of light
Zion, O Zion, let your light shine
I may look like a beggar, stooping under pain
With shoes worn to nothing and garments torn and stained
But this road I have chosen when I knelt at the cross
And deemed its reward worth more than all its cost
The footsteps I follow are deep and stained with blood
The pathway of the thousands who have lived their lives for love
They chose to freely give what death would cruelly take
But their dying grip on faith, no pain could ever shake
I still glimpse a city, that city of hope
Its light piercing night on a hill all alone
There the morning shall dawn at the peak of the climb
All pain will be gone, and every tear be dried
For my soul will be found when the trumpet resounds
And all sorrow shall flee when my Redeemer I see