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John Brown
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John Brown’s body lies a mould’ring
in the grave, (ter)
But his soul is marching on.
Chorus:
Glory! Glory! Halleluja (ter)
His soul is marching on!
- He’s gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
His soul is marching on.
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John Brown died that the slave might be free,
But his soul goes marching on.
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The stars of heaven are looking kindly down,
On the grave of old John Brown.
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