Red Clay Halo

Well, the girls all dance with the boys from the city

And they don't care to dance with me

Well, it ain't my fault that the fields are muddy

And the red clay stains my feet

Well, it's under my nails and it's under my collar

And it shows on my Sunday clothes

Well, I do my best with soap and water

But the damned old dirt won't go

But when I pass through the pearly gates

Will my gown be gold instead?

Or just a red clay robe with red clay wings

And a red clay halo for my head?

Well, it's mud in the spring and it's dust in the summer

And it blows in a crimson tide

Till the trees and the leaves and the cows are the colour

Of the dirt on the mountainside

But when I pass through the pearly gates

Will my gown be gold instead?

Or just a red clay robe with red clay wings

And a red clay halo for my head?

Well, Jordan's banks are red and muddy

And the rolling water is wide

But I got no boat, so I'll be good and muddy

When I get to the other side

But when I pass through the pearly gates

Will my gown be gold instead?

Or just a red clay robe with red clay wings

And a red clay halo for my head?

That's right, I'll take a red clay robe with red clay wings

And a red clay halo for my head

Ding!