This World Is Not My Home

This world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through.
My treasure are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord, you know I have no friend like you,
If heaven’s not my home then Lord, what will I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

They’re all expecting me, and that’s one thing I know,
My Savior pardoned me and now I onward go;
I know He’ll take me through, though I am weak and poor,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord, you know I have no friend like you,
If heaven’s not my home then Lord, what will I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

Just up in glory land we’ll live eternally,
The saints on every hand are shouting: “Victory!”
Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven’s shore,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord, you know I have no friend like you,
If heaven’s not my home then Lord, what will I do?
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.