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!