All god’s children
Born in the country
Born in the country
Movin’ to the city
All god’s children
Born in the country

They take with them
The wealth of our land
Soon squandered on trifles and sin
They take with them
The wealth of our land
Quickly squandered, quickly squandered

All god’s children
Born in the country
Born in the country
Movin’ to the city
All god’s children
Born in the country

My own dear child
She used to run wild
In the pastures with the lambs and the colts
My own dear child
She used to run wild
In the pastures, in the pastures

All god’s children
Born in the country
Born in the country
Movin’ to the city
All god’s children
Born in the country

Now she sits in a room
With shuttle and loom
And works with her head bent all day
Now she sits in a room
With shuttle and loom
And her head bent, and her head bent

Come home my child, come home
Come home, my child, come home
Cut the threads, lay down the shuttle
Leave your city ways
Leave the trouble in the town
And come home

All god’s children
Born in the country
Born in the country
Movin’ to the city
All god’s children
Born in the country

When you get here
We’ll take down your hair
And we’ll call you by your given name
When you get here
We’ll take down your hair
And we’ll call you by your name