Dirt Roads of Red

Early one Sunday morning

I heard a word from the preacher man

He said, "Be sweeter to your mamas

And love your neighbor like you know you can

'Cause there's a place I know called Heaven

Someday you may wanna go

They never get tired or sick up there

And their streets are made of gold"

I said, "Well, preacher

See, I'm the son of a southern man

Raised up good in the yellow sunshine

Working hard in the mud and the sand

And I do believe in the fella upstairs

And I will 'til I'm gray and old

But to tell you the truth, I'm a little concerned

About these streets made of gold"

Yeah, I have just one simple request in mind

And reverend, if you would ever be so kind as to send

A message up there on my behalf, it ain't much to ask

It reads, "Good God almighty, I beg you please, just before I'm dead

Turn them streets of gold to dirt roads of red"

Now there are very few things in this life that turn me up, turn me on

I sure love the touch of a good-looking woman, smell of a fresh-cut lawn

And I'm a tax-paying citizen, damn good fisherman

Lord knows I'd never impose

But on that day when I make it to Heaven

I'm gonna walk down a red dirt road

Yeah, I have just one simple request in mind

And reverend, if you would ever be so kind as to send

A message up there on my behalf, it ain't much to ask

It reads, "Good God almighty, I beg you please, just before I'm dead

Turn them streets of gold to dirt roads of red"

Ah, come on now with it

Yeah, I have just one simple request in mind

And reverend, if you would ever be so kind as to send

A message up there on my behalf, it ain't much to ask

It reads, "Good God almighty, I beg you please, just before I'm dead

Turn them streets of gold to dirt roads of red"

Turn them streets of gold

To dirt roads of red