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