When the preacher talks of heaven, he paints it real nice,
Says you better get to livin', better get to livin' right
You're gonna get your mansion, but save it for your soul
You're gonna do your dancin', city streets of gold.
Unless it's got a dirt road, lead down to a fishing hole,
A little piece of moonlight, a couple cans of Bud Light.
Can cuddle with my baby and pull her real close
Oh I don't wanna go unless heaven's got a dirt road
You better quit your drinkin', better quit the smokin' too,
Trade in backseat Saturday nights for Sunday morning pew.
Well I've never been nothing, nothing more than what you see,
Like my truck, I'm made for running, down to a midnight creek.
So unless it's got a dirt road, lead down to a fishing hole,
Little piece of moonlight, a couple cans of Bud Light.
Can cuddle with my baby and pull her real close
Oh I don't wanna go unless heaven's got a dirt road.
All of this flying high, gonna leave you falling short
And get knock knock knocking on Heaven's basement door.
But the one thing's for sure...
Unless it's got a dirt road, lead down to a fishing hole,
With little piece of moonlight, a couple cans of Bud Light.
Can cuddle with my baby, and pull her real close
I don't wanna go unless heaven's got a dirt road.
