Well, the girls all dance with the boys from the city
But 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

It's under my nails and it's under my collar
And it shows on Sunday clothes
Though I do my best with soap and water
That 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 red clay halo for my head?

It's mud in the spring and it's dust in the summer
When it rolls in crimson tide
'Til the trees and the leaves and the cows are the color
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 red clay halo for my head?

Now 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 red clay halo for my head?

I'll take a red clay robe and red clay wings
And red clay halo for my head