Hillbilly Heaven

I don’t wanna die soon but When I die I don’t want to go to hell

I want to be greeted at heavens gates with a rebel yell

I don’t need streets paved with gold or St Peter at the pearly gates

Let Dale Earnhardt pick me up and forget how to use his brakes

Let the angels float around on biscuit clouds and play banjos

Forget tunics and robes, I want flannel and jeans for clothes

Let Johnny cash songs wake me up when I take a nap

And have my granny send me for a switch when I have a mishap

Set up a shooting range for me to play with all the guns

Have fried chicken and pulled pork on homemade buns

If Jesus wants to talk make sure you need four wheel drive to get there

And it would be pretty cool if he didn’t mind when I swear

I don’t know how heaven will be but I pray it was designed by a hillbilly

Let there be southern bells, country music, horseshoes and I’ll be happy

If it can’t be all for hillbillies i hope Heaven has a Dixie section

Where I can lounge under a shady tree and drink sweet tea in Heaven

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