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Well, the girls all dance with the boys from the city
But they don't dance with me
Now it ain't my fault that the fields are muddy
And that red clay stains my feet
It's under my nails and it's under my collar
And it shows on my Sunday clothes
Though I do my best with soap and water
But that damned old dirt won't go
And 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?
Now it's mud in the spring and it's dust in the summer
And it blows on a crimson tide
'Til the leaves and the trees and the cows are the color
Of that dirt on the mountainside
And 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?
Now Jordan's banks, they're red in the muddy
And that rolling water is wide
But I got no boat, so I'll be good and muddy
When I get to the other side
And 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?
I'll take a red clay robe with red clay wings
And a red clay halo for my head