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Red clay halo Gillian Welch
And they don-t care to dance with [G]me.
Now it [C]ain-t my fault that the fields are muddy
And the red clay [G]stains my [C]feet.
[C]And it-s under my nails and it-s under my collar
And it shows on my Sunday [G]clothes.
I [C]do my best with soap and water
But the damned old [G]dirt won-t [C]go.
CHORUS:
But [F]when I pass through the [C]Pearly Gates
Will my [G]gown be gold in[C]stead,
Or just a [F]red clay robe with [C]red clay wings
And a [G]red clay halo for my [C]head?
[C]Now it-s mud in the spring and it-s dust in the summer
When it blows in a crimson [G]tide,
Until the [C]trees and the leaves and the cows are the color
Of the dirt on the [G]mountain [C]side.
CHORUS
[C]Now Jordan-s banks, they-re red and muddy
And the rolling water is [G]wide,
But I [C]got no boat so I-ll be good and muddy
When I get to the [G]other [C]side.
CHORUS
I'll take a [F]red clay robe with [C]red clay wings
And a [G]red clay halo for my [C]head.
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