Mansion Over the Hilltop Songtext
von Bill & Gloria Gaither and their Homecoming Friends
Mansion Over the Hilltop Songtext
Mansion Over The Hilltop
I′m satisfied with just a cottage below,
A little silver and a little gold;
But in that city where the ransomed will shine,
I want a gold one that's silver-lined.
I′ve got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
Tho' often tempted, tormented and tested
And, like the prophet, my pillow a stone,
And tho′ I find here no permanent dwelling,
I know He′ll give me a mansion my own.
I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we′ll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
Don't think me poor or deserted or lonely,
I′m not discouraged, I'm heaven bound;
I′m just a pilgrim in search of a city,
I want a mansion, a harp and a crown.
I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
I′m satisfied with just a cottage below,
A little silver and a little gold;
But in that city where the ransomed will shine,
I want a gold one that's silver-lined.
I′ve got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
Tho' often tempted, tormented and tested
And, like the prophet, my pillow a stone,
And tho′ I find here no permanent dwelling,
I know He′ll give me a mansion my own.
I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we′ll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
Don't think me poor or deserted or lonely,
I′m not discouraged, I'm heaven bound;
I′m just a pilgrim in search of a city,
I want a mansion, a harp and a crown.
I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old;
And someday yonder we will never more wander,
But walk the streets that are purest gold.
Writer(s): Ira F. Stanphill Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com